


Jaws

by DaniLastName



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Banter, Blindfolds, Bodyguard, Choking, Economics, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Light Bondage, Nipple Piercings, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Psychology, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-06-26 21:22:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15671538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniLastName/pseuds/DaniLastName
Summary: (Finally edited for spelling. I don't want a beta. Go away.)MacCready wouldn't pass up a job, even if it seemed sketchy at first - sure, she had a slave and, yeah, she wore a mask, but caps were caps, and she was offering more by the day."It was the choice of a payday and working for a fucking raider. She'd been inside Goodneighbor without issue and hadn't actually done anything violent, yet, but she was a fucking raider. The only thing they understood was a bullet between the eyes, he believed, but this woman was more than some drugged-up psychopath playing in blood. She had an air of confidence that only evaporated when she'd kiss and pet the dog's head. The only raiders he'd ever seen were idiots with big mouths and a lust for death; Vera was planning shit and making deals."[[Currently working on a large WIP - this will be updated soon]]Named after a song by the same name by Sleep Tokenw o r s h i p





	1. Chapter 1

Slaves weren't allowed in Goodneighbor. It wasn't so much that they were banned, but their 'handlers.' Hancock wasn't a fan of slavery, but Vera needed to enter the shithole, so she made Tony wait outside the entrance, completely vulnerable without a weapon or armor. So, MacCready was a bit surprised when he followed his new boss out of town and was met with a scrawny man wearing a blinking shock collar like he'd seen back in the Capital. The dog she kept at her side had been an oddity by itself, but the idea that she legitimately held a slave was a bit more than he was comfortable with. 

She'd snapped his name when she found him sitting against the fence border and the man scrambled up with his head bent. "Ma'am," he greeted quickly. "Should I hold your shit?" 

Tony didn't seem like he'd been brought up as a slave with the odd choice of words. She didn't reply, but threw her pack to him, which he shouldered quickly with a pitiful smile. MacCready's new employer, Vera, was like no one he'd seen in the Commonwealth. Her head was wrapped in some kind of soft fabric with a metal, jagged mask covering the top half of her face, leaving only her pink lips and the faded scars around them visible. Her black, leather armor pieces only covered her wrists and thighs, tied over the same ragged fabric she'd tied around her torso and shredded jeans cut off above her calves. What stuck out the most was a glowing Pip-Boy on one forearm that seemed unnaturally high-end compared to the rest of her. Now that he saw her beside Tony, she did seem like the type to hold a slave. MacCready shifted and reminded himself of the full 250 caps in his pockets - she hadn't even hesitated when he gave his price, and, now, he was beginning to wonder if she had been buying cattle. 

She hadn't spoken much, but he could tell from her voice that she smoke, drank, and used Jet heavily, giving her throat a tense rasp underneath the natural softness. She looked to MacCready with a tilted chin, her eyes a mystery, and spoke, "I forgot to ask your name, Meat."

"MacCready," he answered shortly, hesitant to start a journey with the odd trio. The dog shed brought stayed by her legs and watched him with unnaturally sweet eyes, despite having tried to nip his fingers a few times. 

She turned back to her slave. "Tony, this is your new boss. Be fuckin' good, yeah?" He nodded quickly, not looking up. 

"Nice to meet you, boss," he offered to MacCready, who glanced back to make sure no one in Goodneighbor could see them from a balcony or rooftop. He really didn't want to be caught running with a slaver -  that was some bad business. 

Vera led them out of the area, towards the west. She hadn't communicated any kind of plan or route and he was imagining different ways he could weasel out of the group should things get weird. Tony made a point to walk behind them, and MacCready lagged back, trying to even with him. He spoke low, just enough that he could be heard. 

"Tony, right? What is this? Where are we going?" 

Tony shook his head hard. "I don't ask, boss. We just walk. The Overboss is a good woman and she'll steer us right."

Overboss? He obviously wasn't going to get answers from the guy and focused on keeping up, watching the dog sniff ahead as though it was leading them. Vera crouched beside it to rub its back while it sniffed, murmuring, "Got a trail, boy?"

The dog whined and scampered forward, turning a corner. She left the men behind to catch up and Tony rushed past, muttering, "Fuckin' dog moves fast." 

They ended up heading further south and MacCready could hear loud voices and bullets firing behind a wooden gate as they approached. Vera pointed at the dog and it sat obediently; Tony had a similar response and stood beside the dog, who growled at him lowly. She focused on MacCready and he swore the metal mask had to be her real face with how little her jaw moved. "You're with me. Just stay quiet and you'll be fine, got it?" 

MacCready nodded and followed as she picked the locked on the door and threw it open. It revealed a wide alleyway shoved tight with wooden structures and scattered raiders, whose guns raised quickly, but, to his surprise, didn't go off. Vera stepped forward without concern, rubble crunching beneath her boots as she crossed her arms and a smirk appeared on her lips. 

"Get Tonto out here," she ordered loudly. A tall raider with black face paint and a combat rifle in his grip stepped forward and she gave a two-fingered wave. "You're the leader here? Have you considered our offer?" 

MacCready glanced back at Tony, who was trying to keep his hands away from the dog's bites as it played with the ragged ends of his jeans. Tonto answered calmly, "We'll do it. S'long as you're legit." Vera nodded and seemed to look out at the other raiders who kept their weapons drawn. 

"My boys'll meet you within a week. Expect to do some fucking work. Your pay is up-front, but based on your output." She descended the short concrete steps and held a hand out to the man. "Welcome to the New World." 

He shook her hand gingerly and she turned on her heel, brushing past MacCready as she left. He was quick to follow, not wanting to find out what it was that kept the raiders from shooting. She snapped her fingers and the dog returned to her side, wagging its tail and licking her palm with joy. MacCready shut the door and sighed shortly as adrenaline burned in his fingertips. She leaned down to lavish the dog with pats and scratches and MacCready took a moment to find his voice. 

"Vera - uh, ma'am? - what exactly are we doing?" 

She didn't look at him as she answered, "Absorbing. We need as many bodies as we can get." 

"For what?" 

He saw her smile quickly before kissing the dog's head. "To take over the Commonwealth." She stood and gestured to the ruins towering over them. "I'm building a place of wealth and prosperity, and it starts with unity. I call it the New World." 

MacCready let a string of curse words slip through his mind. "Why did you hire me? Seems like you don't really need a gun." 

He'd never talked himself out of a job, but she was becoming more of a cult-leader and less like a random woman in a bar. She shot him a smile. "Posterity. An Overboss needs a bodyguard, but I don't need some asshole who thinks he knows better than me nagging over my shoulder. I've been looking for some good, fresh meat to represent our reach. Plus, you're cute." 

He was thrown off by the compliment and saw Tony crane his neck to hide a grin. Before he could retort, she spoke again. "You'll be happy. Unlike this asshole." She gestured at the other man and sneered, "Ain't that right, Tony?" 

He nodded hard. "Yes, ma'am."

 

It was the choice of a payday and working for a fucking raider. She'd been inside Goodneighbor without issue and hadn't actually done anything violent, yet, but she was a fucking raider. The only thing they understood was a bullet between the eyes, he believed, but this woman was more than some drugged-up psychopath playing in blood. She had an air of confidence that only evaporated when she'd kiss and pet the dog's head. The only raiders he'd ever seen were idiots with big mouths and a lust for death; Vera was planning shit and making deals.  

She led her small crew to the river, letting her dog stuff its nose into debris and trash. MacCready had been quieter than he'd ever been in his life, trying to decide if he could just take his caps and disappear. He had a feeling she'd find him, though, and raiders weren't his favorite thing to fight. 

An amphitheater sat across the water, glowing with contained fires as dusk began to settle over Boston. She seemed to find her target in it and the men followed her across the decaying bridge towards it. MacCready remembered being past it once and it had been full of little cultists and a weird man who kept talking about community. Now, though, no one sat outside of it aside from a single child dressed in an oversized flannel and ragged pants. He sat on the amphitheater's edge with his legs swinging, watching the sky. 

MacCready felt a surge of adrenaline when the dog perked up and left Vera's side, running towards the child with a ferocious speed. Just as MacCready began to raise his rifle, the child shouted and jumped off the perch, opening his arms wide. The dog hit him hard enough to knock the kid onto the ground, where he laughed loudly as the dog began licking his face. MacCready stared and Vera glanced at him over her shoulder. "Keep the gun down, big guy," she warned, approaching the giggling child with a hand on her hip. She spoke much softer to him; "Jack, you shouldn't be out here so late. It's dangerous." 

The kid, Jack, push the dog off to sit up, saluting her with a grin; "Yes, ma'am! But I was on lookout duty!" 

She reached a hand out and he took it, pulled to his feet while his grin stayed wide. She sighed and mussed his hair. Vera looked back at Tony and MacCready, her mask betraying nothing. "Tony, stay here with the dog. MacCready, we should probably talk." 

He nodded shortly and followed her and Jack to a door around the side. The dog tried to nip at Jack's shirt, but stood down at Vera's hiss. They entered a room behind the theater and MacCready was stopped in his tracks by the sight. 

Jack ran forward to a bed where a woman lied, hugging her with a smile. Two other children, much younger than him, sat on a pile of cloth made up as a blanket, where they played with rusted or broken toys, laughing and sputtering. Two men sat at a table playing a card game while they drank. It looked like an actual home. The woman looked exhausted and MacCready could tell she was extremely pregnant, her belly even larger than his Lucy's had been. He felt choked at the memory. 

Vera reached to her mask and MacCready watched intently as she pulled it away, dropping the cloth covering her hair and neck. He'd only known her a few hours, but it was exciting to see the face that had been speaking to raiders with authority. Her hair was blonde - sun-bleached despite her covering - and it paired delicately with her bright, green eyes. Nearly every bit of skin that had been beneath the mask was covered in black face paint, a line drawn beneath her eyes and over the bridge of her nose, and streaks of paint made a diamond shape as though she'd been crying oil. Her throat, now visible, was tattooed with a black line that seemed to separate her head from her torso, and she'd covered it in black paint, as well. She looked very much like who he'd expected to be beneath the mask, though it was just as surprising as if she'd ended up being a synth with bare wires or a goddamn alien. 

Her green eyes hit him for a moment before she moved to where the woman was telling Jack not to stay outside for so long. He felt out-of-place, not knowing whether or not he was meant to be there. Vera spoke softly, despite the roughness of her voice; "Hey, Trish. How's it goin'?" 

The woman gave her a small smile. "Still pregnant. I think it's twins, but I don't know. However many there are, it feels like an army jumping on my guts," she laughed. Vera returned the smile, but her eyes still held a blankness. 

"The crew in the alley has joined up, so no need to worry, anymore. I'll have some boys out to guard, soon. Do you need anything?"

Trish groaned and held her belly with a grimace. "Make these babies come out already." She gave a short laugh and looked to MacCready, who leaned awkwardly against the door. "Who's your new friend?" 

Vera looked over at him and he felt targeted, his heart sinking at the bright verdance. "MacCready. He's gonna be my bodyguard."

Trish ooh'd and grinned at him from the bed. "Big job, guy. You think can handle it?" 

He offered an uncomfortable grin; "Doesn't seem too bad, so far."

The men at the table erupted suddenly and startled him, but found that they were reacting to the game's conclusion. One leaned back with a wide grin of victory and the other shook his head, cursing. "Dammit, Ricky - I told ya I ain't any good at this shit." 

The man he assumed was Ricky tilted his chair back. "Gotta pay for my kids somehow, man!" 

Vera appeared beside MacCready and he nearly jumped again. He wasn't used to being so fucking confused, and it made his nerves heighten. She nodded towards the backroom and he followed her, waving at one of the toddlers chewing on a wooden block. The child waved back with a tiny gripped fist and he felt a twinge of homesickness. The room she led him to was much smaller, likely some kind of office in its original use. There were two couches, a radio on a table, and crates filled with nonperishables and fruit stacked in a corner. She shut the door and stepped lightly to a couch, watching him closely as she sat down. She motioned to the other couch and MacCready fell onto it, trying to look casual. 

She watched him like a cat keeping track of a mouse - her eyes seemed to glow against the black paint and her expression never seemed to change from a trained blankness. She was pretty, though, despite the hard-ass front. Finally, she asked, "Is there something shorter I can call you? MacCready is a bit of a mouthful." 

He blurted without thinking, "Yeah, a lot of women say that." 

What the fuck, he chastised himself mentally, watching the woman for any twitch that could end up with him floating face-down in the river. To his surprise, she grinned and closed her eyes, shaking her head. She thought it was funny - his heart was racing. 

"Well, beyond that, do you have a first name?" She seemed relaxed, suddenly, tilting her head to lean it against her arm as she spread it along the back of the couch. She was staring at him with those eyes, again. 

"Well, technically my name is Robert, but I usually like RJ, I guess." Her smile was barely visible, but there. 

She echoed, "RJ. Okay." She breathed deeply, sitting straight again to crack her neck. "You seem pretty stressed out for a merc, RJ." 

She'd seen him jump and stare and grip his rifle too tightly. He cleared his throat. "Well, uh, I usually don't work for people known for, ya know, murderous rampages and shi- stuff. But, I'm also just... Kind of confused." 

She nodded and threaded her fingers together over her legs as she leaned forward. "Not all raiders are the same. I didn't join them on purpose, but I saw their potential. My crew isn't destined to be a nasty little cancer on the wastes. I have a plan to revive the Commonwealth, in a way, and make it a place to live rather than survive."

"Like Diamond City but with raiders?" 

She pressed her lips hard. "No, nothing like Diamond City. Place is disgusting. Have you ever heard of economics, RJ?" He shook his head and she didn't seem surprised. "It's the study and practice of how money flows through a community, both big and small. I've used it to plan how to create a system of connected communities that will thrive by simply coexisting. And my crew is behind it. They're called the Operators, and the only real thing to be scared of is owing us." She let a small grin slip and MacCready watched her closely. "They thought it was bullshit, at first, but I proved it to them, and promised them a lot of caps. Not my caps - just wealth in general. Speaking of which..." 

Vera lifted and searched her pockets, pulling out a cloth-wrapped bundle that clinked with caps. He raised his brow as she tossed it to him. 

"I expect to keep you on my team. 250 was your principal payment, you could say. If you stay, I can pay you five hundred per week." She leaned back onto the couch and crossed one leg over the other, an expectant look in her eyes. 

He almost laughed. "Five hundred... per week? To do what, exactly? I'm not gonna be a slaver-" He was interrupted by a sudden, loud laugh that erupted from her. 

"A slaver? Good lord, that's fucking funny. You're talking about Tony, yeah? That fucker was in one of the gangs we absorbed. Asshole tried to usurp me by attacking me in the middle of the night, and I figured the best way to teach him his place was to make him my bitch for a couple weeks."

MacCready touched the fraying edges of the cloth bag in his hands thoughtfully. "So, you're not a slaver and your raiders are more like..." 

"Like really aggressive business people," she finished. 

"Look, I have to ask - what the hell do you need a bodyguard for? I know you said posterity, but to who? Why me? Couldn't you just get a random raider to do it for free? And who the hell - ugh, heck - are those people?" 

"RJ, I should be honest." She glanced around the room as though looking for a scapegoat. "I spoke to several people in Goodneighbor about people needing work. Everyone I met wasn't a wander-the-wastes-for-weeks type, but a few mentioned you. Lady at a shop said you said something about sending money to your kid. Is that true?" 

He felt a lump in his throat and her eyes burned into him. "Who said that?" 

"Do you have a sick child in need of help?" Her casual tone had disappeared and was replaced with the cut-and-try voice of business. He nodded, not returning her gaze, and she brushed a finger down her jaw in thought. "Five hundred per week." 

"I don't get it - are you trying to get people indebted to you?" 

"Hm, no. By working towards the greater good, I set myself up for real success. How can you ever really prosper if the poor are dying on your lawn? And, if I do it," she smirked, "I'll get to be one of those fancy historical figures they teach kids about. Maybe I'll even get a settlement or two named after me." 

"That's a pretty big dream, boss," he chuckled. "But, I guess the smartest thing would be starting with the assholes who always get in the way..." 

"You don't reform a society by starting with the ones who already think they know better." She stood and stretched, but MacCready wasn't satisfied, yet. 

"But who are the people out there?" 

She eyed him lazily. "Trish was about five months along when I met them. That's her husband, Ricky, and his brother, Daniel. They were living in some old shithole before I became Overboss. Really freaked me out, back then, so I promised 'em I'd get them safe. They're the reason I figured I'd do all this shit. You can't have pregnant women and children out in the elements like that." She bit her lip in a rare moment of vulnerability. "Don't say anything about 'em. To anyone. Politics is a hard game, so just keep quiet. I'm sending a crew to guard the area under the pretense that it's a sanctuary rather than a personal thing." 

She was finished and gestured for him to follow. The toddlers were pushing each other with wide grins and tiny shouts while Trish watched, her eyelids heavy. Jack sat at her feet, trying to read aloud. Vera crouched to kiss the toddlers on the head, then laid her hand on Jack's head, interrupting his slow speech. "Don't go out there until my guys come, alright? Your dad and Dan can handle the guarding for now." He pouted and seemed like he was going to argue. "Your mom needs you more." 

Vera grabbed her mask and wrap from the table and her eyes disappeared, along with the black tint of her skin. MacCready waved at the kids as they left and Trish wished them luck, followed by grunts from the men, who had started a new game. Stepping back outside felt like they'd come back from another world. 

Tony was seated on the ground, the dog trying to play by pulling on his sleeves. MacCready felt a lot less pity for the man knowing he'd tried to kill Vera, and he realized a sense of loyalty had built from seeing her secret intentions. In less than an hour, she'd gone from a sketchy raider to a leader worthy of a following. He wouldn't get ahead of himself, as no solid evidence of her words existed, but he was more willing to give her a chance, now. 

She led them north again and they quickly came to Diamond City, a short walk from the amphitheater. A guard stopped them at the gate with a warning tone. "No slaves in Diamond City." 

She sniffed rudely; "I saved him. I just haven't gotten the collar off. Come on, man - he's a good guy." The guard looked past her at Tony, who grinned stupidly. He really did seem more like a raider than Vera. 

"Yes, sir. She killed my holder and let me have purified water, today!" MacCready nodded when the guard looked to him. 

"MacCready? The hell you doin' back here? They still got your face up in the Stands, so don't get any funny ideas." He stepped aside and let them pass, Vera shooting an unseen look at MacCready as they entered. 

"Already got a reputation?" she commented smoothly. 

"Look - some people just aren't meant to be alive, and I'm not scared to let them know that." 

She snickered. "I can understand that." 

She took them to the Dugout Inn, where Vadim greeted her with a boisterous shout. "Ah! Miss Vera! How is my favorite woman?" he asked with his odd accent. "They let you in this time, eh?" 

She smiled shortly and moved to the counter like a ghost, seeming to move without effort. It was probably her mask or the overall look of her, but she looked like a goddess of death wherever she was. "I don't see why they think they're so high and mighty that slaves would be an issue, but they kick out a ghoul as soon as they come near." Vadim laughed and glanced around the bar, likely hoping his patrons wouldn't start a fight over her words. 

He spoke lower, "Your friend, Ginger - she is okay, now?" 

Vera nodded as he slid a glass of clear liquor to her. "Got her to Goodneighbor. Thanks for the tip." She took the shot quickly and wiped her lips before looking back at MacCready, who was focused on the dog nudging his fingers. "My new friend likes drinking. Just give me the bill in the morning, alright?" 

Vadim beamed and slapped the counter. "MacCready! You know Miss Vera? Oh, watch out," he winked and turned to his shelf of booze, setting bottles in front of Vera with vigorous joy. "You want to see my brother, yes?" He shouted for Yefim, and the man glared at him from where he sat by the hallway. 

"I can hear, Vadim," he snapped. "Two rooms?" 

Vera nodded, taking another shot, and MacCready glanced at Tony, who was leaned against a wall with a grimace. He slid beside Vera and murmured, "Don't you need three? Or do you guys, uh..." He gestured at Tony and Vera laughed, her teeth shining in contrast to the metal edges of her mask. 

"Oh, sorry. I guess I should, but I really don't feel like paying for three goddamn rooms. I'll sleep in the chair - just forget it and get some fuckin' booze before I drink it all." He could tell she was already tipsy, having already taken three successive shots. 

Vadim shoved a glass across the counter to him before chuckling and walking away. Tony was already grabbing the room keys from Yefim and disappeared into the hallway, likely not allowed any liquor by his boss. MacCready took a seat the the bar and heard the dog curl up beneath them, sighing. He let his gaze wander to his boss's figure, slouched over the bar with a grin while she felt the haze of drunkenness overcome her. 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

MacCready - or RJ, or whoever he was supposed to be now - woke up in a foreign comfort, facing a wall while he naturally woke to neither sunlight nor gunfire. Instead, he was woken by a dream, in which he'd been surrounded by cloth and covered in a cold rain that made him feel like he'd traveled time. He shook his head and rose, trying to make sense of the dream, when he saw his new boss, Vera, limp against the armchair in the corner of the room. Her armor was piled in the corner and she wore only her underwear and the cloth wrapped around her chest, and her head hanging over an armrest. The black face paint was fading fast, and he could nearly see her real face beneath, soft skin peeking out from beneath the staining.

He tensed and tried to remember the night before. All he could think of was Vadim and filling shot after shot, chased by cold Nuka-Cola that only seemed to fuel his intake. Vera shifted and he watched her with wide eyes while she slowly woke, apparently stirred by his own movement. She searched the room through squinted eyes before she landed on him. Her voice was sweet in its groggy rasp; "G'mornin'." 

He held his breath a moment, expecting her to realize she was half-naked, but, instead, she fell from the chair and gathered her armor and jeans from the corner with a groan of exhaustion. There was a scratching sound and the dog appeared from beneath the bed, its tail slapping against the mattress as he greeted their boss. She smiled sleepily and touched its head with a soft moan of happiness. 

She looked up to RJ and tilted her chin. "You sleep good?" 

He wasn't used to small talk in the morning, mostly from bosses, but especially from women who'd been sleeping in the same room. "Uh, yeah. What happened?" 

She scoffed as she pulled her jeans on, wriggling to ride them up her hips. He couldn't help but watch her scarred skin disappear. "Got drunk. You got really into DCR and I think you tried to sing to something." She laughed at the memory he didn't have and opened her pack, which he presumed Tony had dropped off, to find salted meat and purified water. She laid the meat out for her dog and filled a plastic bowl with the water, seated cross-legged beside her companion with a small smile. 

He had to just ask. "Did we, uh..." 

Her eyes shot to his and she laughed aloud as she poured the water while her dog watched intently. "Oh, God no. We only met yesterday. Don't tell me you're already in love." 

He tried to laugh back, but it was mostly some kind of pitiful, awkward choke. "I don't remember shit."

She set the bowl down and the dog drank heavily, its tongue lapping against the plastic loudly before it tore into the slab of meat. "Dont worry, RJ. I'm a big girl - I can remember what I do when I drink." 

A knock came to the door and she rose to open it, revealing Tony, who grinned widely. "Mornin', bosses! Where we goin'?" 

Vera tipped her head, unaffected by the man's excitement. "We're heading back home to collect and send out some crews. You learn anything yet?" 

He looked to the ceiling like he was trying to remember the memorized phrasing - "My Overboss is the almighty and the only one I can trust entirely. My Overboss is my leader and my peer, never raised and never lost."

She smirked and slammed the door shut in his face, shouting, "We'll be out in a moment." 

RJ shifted in the bed, realizing he hadn't so much as taken his shoes off. Vera swept through the room, gathering random shit left sitting, and threw it into her pack. She looked to him with a soft smile. "Lots of walking, today. Ready?" 

He groaned and rolled off the mattress, falling to his feet before yawning. "Sure thing, boss." 

She seemed satisfied by his words and opened the door again to a waiting Tony. The man jumped and took the pack from her hands. "Is today my last day, uh, ma'am?" 

She grimaced visibly as she put her mask on, wrapping her head with a practiced technique. "Maybe. We'll see." 

She stopped by the bar to pay Vadim, a pile of caps like MacCready couldn't imagine piled onto the counter as the man sifted through them for forgeries. He beamed at Vera and shook her hand hard. "I hope we'll see you again, Miss Vera!" 

She gave him a smile and led her crew out, her dog scratching at the door ahead in excitement. Outside, RJ realized they'd slept in fairly well. The heat of the sun had already set in and seemed to eminate from the dirt below. Diamond City bustled the same as it always had, random faces appearing and disappearing as shops were patronized and corners were turned. He felt something cold against his hand and looked down to see that Vera was shoving a cold bottle of water against his fingers. She smiled wordlessly as he took it and shouldered Tony from her path as she retool the lead and followed her dog to the entrance. 

 

She'd traveled the road from Diamond City to her home regularly, and it was obvious from the bullethole-laced path they took, on which nothing appeared. RJ was used to at least a stray molerat or feral, but the route they took through barren neighborhoods and heated roads was without life, entirely. As they walked beneath an overpass that gave them a short moment of shade, Vera stopped to check her dog. She nuzzled against its head and spoke to RJ, "My boy's name is Gnarly. I thought it was cute." 

He shifted the strap of his rifle and watched her kiss the dog's fur lovingly. "Gnarly, huh?" 

She giggled when the dog pressed its snout to her chest and pushed her to her ass, licking the bare skin of her jaw. "Gnarly was there when I took Nuka-World. He's a good dog and my one true love." 

He smirked as the hugged her dog tightly, Tony shifting his weight behind them uncomfortably. "Cute," RJ commented gruffly. She didn't seem to notice and continued rubbing the dog's head. She managed to raise long enough to snap her fingers at the ground, Gnarly falling into place beside her obediently. She seemed to have the same effect on all males, regardless of their species. 

Eventually, a mass of buildings appeared ahead and the dog rushed forward, barking and digging as it scampered through the ruins. RJ glanced into the buildings with a careful eye as they passed, entering into an underground metro station. Tony seemed accustomed to the place, and entered the train with a sigh, throwing Vera's pack onto the seat beside him. Gnarly sniffed along the tile flooring and nipped at RJ's heels as he was ushered onto the train by Vera's insistent hands.

She took a place at the front and looked back through the grate of her mask. "Ready, boys?" 

Gnarly barked and Tony grunted, signaling her to pull a lever that caused the doors to slide shut. RJ had never been in a working train, let alone one that moved so quickly. He was pressed against a sidewall as it started and Vera laughed lightly. "You got a favorite kind of Nuka-Cola, RJ?" 

He shrugged, trying to keep a casual composure despite the train's sudden turns. "I dunno - anything that's cold, I guess." 

She nodded and watched out the window as empty land passed by. She seemed somehow entranced by it while Tony let his head rock against the window behind him, his eyes shut. 

Eventually, a voice came over the speaker and RJ jumped, far from prepared. "Welcome to Nuka-World," it spouted in a voice nearly robotic. There was the sound of interference and a new voice replaced it - it was a man with a grin in his tone and the roughness of a raider. "Welcome, fellow fucks! If you're here by accident, get ready for some fun! If you're here on purpose, leave your tribute by the entrance. Remember - you aren't shit without our queen, our savior, the one-and-only, Overboss!" 

The voice dissalated and Vera laughed. "RedEye's a good man. I should give him a raise." 

RJ stayed silent until the train pulled beneath arches and came to a stop inside a tiled station covered in debris and aged signage. Tony followed Vera with a practiced timing and RJ stepped out behind him, taking in the oddly-joyous decorations decaying along the walls. Vera waited for him to catch up and pressed a finger to her lips, signaling him to stay quiet. 

Outside of the station, there were more raiders than RJ had ever seen in his life. Most wore weird black-and-white clothing beneath heavy armor, while others grinned through neon face paint and dressed in bright furs or torn rags like Vera's. The raiders greeted her randomly, some with a hint of respect while others with a slur or overzealous shout. From beneath her mask, all she offered back was a small smile to each, passing by without concern. RJ kept close, uncomfortable with the outnumbering raiders, while Tony lagged behind, likely trying to appear collected around his peers. It didn't work well, as a few of the fur-clad raiders punched his shoulders with laughter or shoulder-checked him hard. 

They reached an archway leading to a giant, circular courtyard, and Vera turned to Tony, holding her hand out for her bag. He offered it quickly with a hopeful look. She sighed as she pushed the bag onto her back. "You're free for now, but I'm not removing the collar."

He was only disappointed for a moment before he bent his head and thanked her, disappearing into the crowded street alongside his crewmates.

Gnarly barked at the excitement and Vera smiled at him. "It was a good choice, huh?" she cooed, scratching the dog's ears. A shot rang out, closer than the shooting practice going on in alleyways; Vera didn't seem bothered, soothing the dog's perked ears. There was a small rise of cheers and laughter and RJ looked back to see Tony's body sprawled on the ground in the center of a small crowd. The man who shot him, tall with black-fur pants and a ring of claws around his throat, raised a fist, shouting, "Got him, Overboss!" 

Vera didn't reply, just smiled to the dog and rose to leave the area. RJ followed with a tight expression. Tony hadn't seemed so bad that he should be killed the moment she was finished with him. He was starting to feel uneasy again, still wondering if she was really the bringer of a better world like she said. Her people still seemed to love her, but raiders weren't logical beings, anyway. They skirted the edge of an ancient wading pool and she opened a door at the base of the giant fake mountain. She offered a small smile as she held it for him and RJ hesitated. 

"You feel bad for Tony?" she asked gently and he looked away. "Yefim caught him trying to break into our room last night. I've been watching him at night and he's always trying to pull shit. I just had to get him back here to make a point. That guy who shot him - that was his brother." Her lips moved into a sad frown and she sighed. "Psychosis isn't easy to run away from, and the wastes is the perfect place for it to grow. It's unfortunate, but some people can't be fixed. He wanted to be the Alpha in the Pack, too, and nearly got himself torn up by dogs trying to start a fight with the old one. Look," she reached a hand out and laid it on his shoulder with a soft squeeze, "It's a hard game, but I don't take human life lightly. That's why I didn't just kill everyone here and free the slaves they held." RJ furrowed his brow at the mention of more slaves and she shook her head. "It took some time, but the slaves are just workers, now. Mags and William were the only ones willing to listen to me, so they're the only bosses that survived. I taught them sustainability. You have to build to live on top; otherwise, you're just rolling in the same shit." He didn't seem convinced and she tilted her chin curiously. "Do you want to meet the people who used to be slaves?" 

"I... I dunno," he finally answered. "This is all so sketchy and, every time I think I'm getting you, you do something crazy, but you have these complicated explanations and... I don't know." 

She squeezed his shoulder again with a smile. "Let's leave our shit here and you can meet them. Maybe you'll feel better." 

 

In the front end of the park, Nuka-Town U.S.A., a huge makeshift structure surrounded by wooden barricades housed the marketplace. Inside, people who looked far different than the raiders outside milled about, speaking to merchants and squeezing Mutfruit for freshness. It was like a different world. 

She led him to a stall behind which sat medical supplies and a bed. Seated near the bed was a small, tanned woman whose eyes lit up at Vera's appearance. "Overboss," she greeted happily, standing to lean over the stall with a grin, "how can I help?" 

Vera nodded towards RJ, "My new friend needs a specialty medicine." He shit a look at her in confusion. "Kid's got blue boils on him and can't walk anymore. Any ideas?" 

RJ felt suddenly betrayed by the trick. Sure, she was right, but Daisy had told her - not him - and he'd only come on the pretense that he was going to hear some potentially-made-up sob stories. The woman looked surprised. "Blue? How long has the kid been sick? Is anyone else in the area ill?" 

Vera looked to RJ and he shook his head. "More than a few months," he answered shortly. 

The woman nodded and turned away to open a box beneath her counter. She reappeared with a syringe of clear liquid. "Sounds like Blue Fever. It was a bioweapon before the war, and it usually killed people within a week. We had something like that in my old settlement -  it's actually why I started being a doctor! We think the virus mutated over the centuries and only affects people who eat unwashed vegetables or fruit grown from infected dirt. It used to only be in the midwest, but people fleeing the Legion brought it with them by accident and it's popped up randomly across Appalachia. This," she held the syringe out and he took it slowly, "is a recipe stolen from Legion medics. It's hard to make out here, but you only need one shot to kill the virus off. Thankfully, it's a lot less lethal than it used to be, but the virus usually leaves survivors unable to have children." 

He was struck. He'd been told so many things, heard so many possible treatments, and spent countless nights searching for answers. Now, this girl claimed the cure was in his hands, a single-shot syringe of Legion medicine. He faltered and Vera took over. "Thank you, MacKenzie. Seriously - I didn't think you'd actually have something," she gushed quietly, trying not to grab attention. She laughed in disbelief and reached into her pockets, emptying them of a pile of caps that made passersby stare. "You've done some real good shit. Thank you. If there's anything you ever need, let me know. You can live wherever the fuck you want for free." MacKenzie seemed surprised and laughed. 

"Overboss, it really isn't that big of a-" 

She was cut off by RJ moving around the counter suddenly to hug her, careful of the needle in his grip. She laughed again. "Well, uh, you're welcome, guys." 

He pulled away and began to leave, his mind entirely blank now that he had what he'd left home for. He needed to get it to Daisy - he needed to take that train and walk the entire Commonwealth and, then, it'd be on its way. Duncan would be fine. He was nearly choking from the urge to fucking cry from it all when Vera stopped him. Her voice was low, whispering to keep her words private; "Hey, hey - I know you want Daisy to handle it, but she's pretty fucking far away. Let my caravans take it for you." His eyes shot to hers. 

"I-I can't risk it - he needs this. Daisy said-" 

She squeezed his shoulders. "My caravaners aren't raiders. Some of them even go to the Capitol and New York. Just hear me out - it'll get there faster, and I don't want to be worrying about whether or not you made it." RJ gripped the syringe and stared at her, unsure and unwilling to stray from his only plan. She smiled, "Whatever you need to believe me, RJ, I'll do it. I hired you to help your boy - so, let me help." 

He was still in shock but forced himself to nod. "It has to get there..." 

She nodded and offered, "Why don't I go ask MacKenzie for the recipe? That way, everyone in that area will have a cure on-hand if it happens again." He agreed quietly and she left him to stare at the cure in the center of the market, his entire life on a different track from when he'd entered. 

 

They met the caravaners outside, a group of two merchants chatting outside the gates while their Brahmin nosed at the dirt. Vera explained the location for the syringe and letter to be dropped off to one, who was introduced as Laurel, and the man was quick to agree to her request. Rather than handing over caps - all of which she'd left to MacKenzie - Vera gave him the location of her newest acquisition, Hangman's Alley, and told him she'd increase the shipments to Nuka-World as payment. RJ still wasn't entirely on board as an endless stream of possibilities ran through his mind. Vera sent word that Tony needed to die - who's to say she didn't also have the medic come up with some jargon about an unknown disease that made it seem like Vera was his savior? Maybe the cure was actually something that could kill Duncan, leaving RJ to fall easy prey for a real raider assault for laughs? That was the kind of shit people, especially raiders, did - they'd kill your whole family to watch you cry and string you up to bleed you out. 

Vera waved goodbye as she took RJ back to the park and into the marketplace again, where the loud conversations and sales pitches made his thoughts scatter. He was still too wrapped up in everything happening that he was losing focus of the real world. Vera elbowed his arm and he snapped out of it, realizing they were back at the clinic and MacKenzie was looking at him like she'd asked him a question. "Uh, sorry, what?" 

The woman smiled and patted his arm from across the counter. "You look like you could use some rest. I asked if you wanted anything to keep you awake." 

"Oh, uh, no. Thanks." 

Vera cracked her neck, possibly irritated, but he couldn't tell. She asked the medic, "Would you mind telling him about what happened here? It's hard to prove," she laughed lightly. 

"Is this a test, Overboss?" MacKenzie asked teasingly before looking to RJ again, who was having a hard time focusing. "Well, I lived in a settlement out west of here and the old Overboss, Colter, tried to raid my town. Everyone got pretty messed up, so I convinced him to agree to a ceasefire. He only agreed if I'd come be an on-hand medic here, and that's how I got this." She pointed to her neck, where a stark tan line had developed from what RJ guessed was a slave collar. "Our new Overboss, here, though - she killed him and took over. The Pack and the Disciples didn't like her too much because they wouldn't agree to the terms she was setting, like freeing us slaves and paying us, or using non-violent means to gain territory. It's not like they were leashed - they just weren't supposed to kill anyone that didn't owe them anything." She rolled her eyes at the memory. "So, they got killed and hung up at the entrance for a few weeks before the smell got real bad and we fed them to the bloodworms. All the people that had been in the Pack and Disciples had to decide to either join the Operators and follow Overboss's rules or leave. There was lots of death for a little while, but everything is going well, now."

MacKenzie smiled at him when she finished and RJ realized Vera wasn't beside him anymore. The medic patted his arm quickly and added, "The Overboss is a confusing lady. She likes to keep people in a permanent state of wondering if she's pissed or not." She laughed. "Maybe that's why she wears that mask. You know, I hear even Mags and William have never even seen her take it off." 

RJ looked around quickly, trying to find where Vera went. He sighed shortly and decided to test the situation. "If she's done so much and freed you, why haven't you gone home?" 

"Oh I do, but just sometimes. This work pays now, so I have a reason to come back." 

"How does she afford to pay all of you without pissing off the raiders?" 

MacKenzie's eyes lit up like he'd asked her favorite question. She leaned down a bit and spoke softly, "Overboss knows things no one else does." He raised an eyebrow. "It's like someone trained her to do this stuff. She came by here a few times after clearing out some of the areas of the park, and she was always pretty damaged, but never said she got lucky or seemed worried. After that, I hear she talked to Mags and Nisha about some kind of money-making scheme, but Nisha didn't care. Mags, though, I guess it sounded really good to her. Since then, Overboss has been the unquestioning leader of money stuff. We all have no idea where the caps come from, but they keep coming, and the raiders have even more. She can fight, make money appear from nothing, and always gives a shit about everyone."

"Everyone? Why not that guy, Tony?" 

"Oh, him. Tony was a bad guy. He didn't like things he couldn't understand, so he thought the Overboss was full of it and trying to ruin the park." She shrugged. "Honestly, it's a lot nicer with him gone." 

RJ considered her for a moment before searching the stalls again. "Where'd she go, anyway?" 

"Oh," the woman giggled, "she does that. Probably went to check on people. You should try to relax - you've probably got the best position in the whole park, now." 

"Why's that?" 

"Overboss said she wanted a bodyguard weeks ago, even though, well, she obviously doesn't need one. She said it was part of her plan -  uh, bucket something." 

"Bucket?" RJ was tired of the back and forth shit. Things were either really fucking good or fucked. Either Vera was some kind of mythical being that could make caps appear from thin air, or she was a monster who was preparing RJ for the most convoluted death, entrapment, or slavery he'd ever heard of. 

"I dunno - but, hey, I understand why you'd be skeptical. No one is like her out there. I was pretty sure I was going to die with that collar around my neck. But, Overboss came and delivered. She doesn't fuck around." 

RJ nodded and rubbed a hand over his face. Since Vera had apparently left, he had to either find his way back or listen to the former slaves gush over her. He decided to take his chances. He thanked MacKenzie again for the cure and left, suddenly feeling singled out among the raiders with furry shit on their bodies or suits that paired with their scowls. He saw the giant mountain and figured it was best to at least make sure his stuff was still there, but, on his way towards it, an arm appeared around his shoulders and he nearly ducked away. 

It was a woman with broken teeth and short black hair, one of the weird-fancy-suit-wearing ones. She grinned and nearly skipped at his side, too loud in his ear. "Hey, Bodyguard! Name's Lola - can I call you Bodyguard? Hey, look, man, I just wanna say, you look real nice today. Real fuckin' nice, man!" 

He had to cover his disgusted expression with his hand. "I've never seen you before." 

She snorted loudly. "Don't mean nothin', man! Hey, you heard anything from the Overboss about me, huh? I been tryin' real hard, man - I got a hundred caps today! My tribute, man, Overboss is gonna love it."

"Tribute?"

"'Ey, you know, Bodyguard, you got a real nice voice, too. You should be on the radio like RedEye. Bet you the girls'd be lined up!" She put her fingers to her lips like she was embarrassed. "Oh, but, I mean, unless you and OB got a thing goin' already."

"Uh, hey," he moved out from beneath her arm when they reached the base of the mountain, "it was good meeting you and all, but I gotta go, uh, do some stuff for Overboss." 

She pursed her lips and nodded hard. "Sure thing, sure thing, man. Don't you be scared to come find me, now, Mr. Bodyguard!" She winked and flashed a broken grin before heading off. He could still smell the weird alcohol sweat she'd given off on his shoulder and cringed. 

He entered into the lobby where Vera and he had left their bags behind a counter and he dragged both to the elevator, thankful there was only one button so he wouldn't get lost. The elevator jerked and he sighed in the silence. It was so fucking weird there. Everyone loved his new boss, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something about her she was hiding. No one in the wastes could just take on a whole city of raiders and end up their queen - not without endless disloyalty and in-fighting. He'd just have to wait for word on Duncan's condition to know for sure whether or not she was legit. But that could take weeks, and two days with her had nearly brought him to insanity. 

The elevator opened to a sort of common room - there was a kitchen and workbenches, a single bed, and various shit scattered about. It seemed to be her room, but there was nothing grand about it like the rest of her. He found a storage room, oversized bathrooms, and a hallway that led to larger doors. Vera didn't seem to be anywhere around, so he did some exploring. 

Through the doors, he found her real room, a giant overlook with acrylic windows and a fully-stocked bar that made his mouth water. Getting drunk seemed fucking spectacular after everything. He jumped when a bark erupted from a corner and Gnarly appeared, his ears back and teeth bared. 

"Oh, shi- uh, good dog," RJ offered with his hands up. The dog started creeping towards him with a rumbling growl just as mechanical whirring sounded and RJ decided it was best to guess what death was like now. The dog stopped and snapped its head to the balcony's entrance just as the elevator there dropped from view. It wagged its tail and started pouncing on the carpet, whining as his attention was kept away from RJ. He was allowed there, he thought, maybe, so whoever was coming probably wouldn't freak out. Unless it was that Lola bitch again, there to rape him in the corner and break his teeth in. 

There was nearly a full minute of harmonized dog and mechanism whining before Vera appeared, leaned against the wooden railing as she looked out to the park. 

She turned just as Gnarly jumped to her, his claws digging at her clothing as he greeted her. "Hey, boy. You been good?" She hadn't noticed RJ yet as he slumped into a stool and let his head fall onto the bar. "Oh! You found your way up. Sorry I left - I forgot I had to update Mags on the whole caravan thing. You alright?" 

It was now or never, he tilted his head up to let his jaw grind against the counter while he stared at her. "What is all this, Vera? Who the hell are you? These people think you're some kind of godsend." 

She was removing her mask and setting it on a tabletop when she gave a weak half-smile. "I just wanna help people." 

"I get that," he retorted. "But most people just give shit away or kill some ferals. This isn't just helping people. What's the deal? Are you from the Institute? Maybe the Brotherhood of Steel is trying to civilize us out here? Or maybe," her threw his arms out, well-aware he was rambling, "some new fucking faction for us to bitch about!" 

There were caravaners doing courier jobs for her, raiders under her thumb, former slaves and scavengers who owed her their lives, and fucking unaligned raiders agreeing to do anything that wasn't fucking around and getting high. It was bullshit and he didn't want to waste another day there if it meant he could never see Duncan again. 

She sniffed with a smirk and headed to her bed where he heard the clicking of a safe before she returned to the bar. She stood opposite of him and laid a piece of paper down. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll have to skin you. Don't make me do that." She slid it forward with pressed lips and RJ squinted at it. It shined in the fluorescent light like a gem, gleaming with an odd texture that curled it at the edges. He stared - it was a man and woman holding a baby, but the thing that made him keep looking was the background. They stood in front of a building with smooth concrete steps, sharp brick walls, and a garden of greenery and grass that made his eyes hurt. 

"What is this?" 

She took a breath and kept her eyes locked to it. "That's me. That's my husband and our son. It was the day we adopted him." 

RJ paused before asking bluntly, "So, is this the Institute, or...?" 

She nearly rolled her eyes but halted at the ceiling. "I was born in 2054."

"Wha- no, 2254."

She blinked slowly and smirked. "2054. I was 23 went the bombs hit. My family got into a Vault and we were frozen until recently." 

He played along. "Well, where are they?" 

"Nate's dead. Shaun, our son - I dunno." She dragged her words out of exhaustion more than disconcern. "I woke up for a second and there's the people taking him from Nate. Shot him right in the head, right near Shaun's ears." She looked back at the photo and her mouth twitched. "My best fucking friend, and they just killed him like a body shield in the way." 

RJ watched her eyes grow bloodshot and his breath caught. 

"I went into the army when I was 16. They sent me to college after my first tour and I ended up in a program meant to unite the Reds and the US again after the war. We had to learn psychology, Chinese, business marketing, economics, philosophy... So, when I woke up alone, it still felt like I had studying for my fucking mid-terms for my Master's the night before. But, no - it was two fucking centuries later. I figure," she shrugged, "must be here for some reason. Might as well do what I was trained to do - kill, aid, and negotiate." 

RJ rubbed a hand over his mouth thoughtfully. "What - uh, what's a bucket plan?" 

She met his eyes, thrown off. "A what?" 

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "MacKenzie said having a bodyguard was part of some bucket plan thing?" 

She half-nodded, "Oh. Right. A lot of idioms didn't survive. I was supposed to be like an ambassador - I wasn't political, but the government spent a lot of money to get me taught and trained. One of the things I was excited about was, well, having a bodyguard. When I toured, I was the bodyguard - I did all the shooting, all the short-distance recon, and all the standing-around-looking-hard shit. I imagined, you know, I go to Beijing on business and end up in a gunfight with some terrorists and we laugh it off later." Her hand had been slowly trailing though her hair and she seemed to realize she was getting emotional. "So that's what's going on. I'm just doing what I feel like I was meant to do." 

"Why didn't you hire, like, a former Brotherhood guy or find the goddamn Minutemen or something?" 

She stared blankly. "I don't know what those are. Look, I paid Daisy a lot for the info she gave me. She told me about this sad guy who listens to the radio all day, the rude guy running the hotel, and some chick named Fahrenheit or Celsius or something, but then she told me you had a sick kid you sent caps to every time you got paid. I thought, I know what it's like to have no idea how your kid's doing when you go to bed. So, I decided I wanted to help, and the only thing I could really do was hire you - give you my time when it's available to try to find something for your kid and swat away those flies you got a bad past with. And, look," she swept her hands in front of her, "you don't have to worry about me getting all twisted up over you. I'm assuming a baby came with a woman." 

RJ bit his tongue and realized he'd never so much as mentioned Lucy. "Uh, yeah. She, uh-" he hadn't been prepared to bring it up, and seemed to choke on his thoughts "-she died a few years back. Held up in a metro and, uh, ferals... found us." 

She looked taken aback for a second. "Who's your kid with?" 

"Some friends. Neighbors. They keep in touch." 

She touched her lips. "Jesus. Well, regardless, I'm here for you. For whatever. You need some heads knocked, I got you; midnight PTSD talk, I'm here." 

"The hell is that?" he grinned. 

"Post - uh, don't worry about it. Just know that, okay?"

He nodded and his grin dropped. He stared at the picture again, taking in the fresh, paint-less skin of Vera's face and the long hair she'd had. "That means a lot. Thanks. I won't, uh, I won't question ya' anymore."

She took the picture back and added, as she left to hide it again, "Questioning is fine. It's impeding I don't like." 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Blue Fever or New Plague was developed for war between the Reds and the US (did we have allies? I didn't read any of that) as a bioweapon that could kill a person only days after exposure. It was released in Central Colorado, focused in the areas of Denver, Colorado Springs, and Boulder (literally where I grew up). This area is Legion territory, a faction seen in FONV, and so it stands to reason that such a massive, powerful army would have the resources to cure a weakened mutation of the virus (you can't just cure a virus, but let's assume some real fancy shit went on scientifically before the war and some books made it).  
> And that's my answer.


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

 

Vera had estimated the wait time for RJ to hear back about Duncan at a full month. The old highway they followed was a straight shot, but she had sighed and said she couldn't fold land for them. He appreciated it nonetheless, encouraged by her caring enough to even give him an estimate. Now that he was in Nuka-World, it seemed all his cares were far behind him, just like the stupid bottlecap mascot said. 

He'd ended up taking the extra bed by the elevator, satisfied with the access to the whole goddamn pantry she'd collected. Vera's actions had a new tone now that he knew her secret. Everything she did gained that weird, Pre-war triviality to it, like her shit-ton of pillows scattered throughout the place, her insisting on actually cooking the meat she fed the dog, and the odd way she'd take Gnarly out with her on rounds each morning. Most people he'd known to have dogs used them like weapons, kicking them when they didn't work right and ignoring them when they were finished. 

RJ had watched her do it once, from the Grille balcony, and she seemed more interested in the dog than talking to anyone. Gnarly was just as happy, bouncing at her heels and nipping her achilles as she walked barefoot on the way to the elevator each time. RJ had only seen nasty dogs - the kind with radiation burns and a thing about touching. It was a perfect disguise - her displacement and refusal to accept the real world just ended up coming off as nearly psychotic in the same way murderers hide in the dark and won't just get a fucking farm and deal with it. 

It'd been a week since she'd hired him, and he'd woken up to a burlap sack of caps on the counter with RJ written in something dark and sticky. She seemed somehow prepared to be a raider, at times, too, and he wasn't sure where'd she found enough blood to write it. For once, he didn't know what to do with the money. The liquor was free, the chems were always at hand, and he hadn't had to use his gun in days. The whole week, he ended up standing beside or behind her during various, boring leader shit and caps just seemed superfluous now. 

She'd talked with Mags, the blonde bomb leading the Operators, for goddamn hours about the park and their plans for it. He couldn't imagine they could turn the weird place into something wastelanders would waste caps on, but Vera had insisted that the place could end up popular with the wealthier assholes, though he couldn't think of anyone who actually fit the description. 

They'd stopped at a different part of the mountain's base, where bits of human still lay scattered across railings and platforms, but she had a plan for it, too, apparently. They'd gone to the fucking marketplace, the old amphitheater, and the damned arcade at least a dozen times, but never to do anything. 

He was only irritable from being so immobile. He had considered asking her for a day to himself - he had been eyeing the ball-and-hoop thing and the "Whack-a-commie" in the arcade for days - but he kept backing out when she'd smile at him and he'd remember the caps and the booze and the cure and he felt obligated to follow her like her dog. 

 

One week after she hired him was the first night she ended up padding into the room in the dark, revealed only by the flickering panel of the elevator. He might have been freaked out if it was anyone else, but she was dragging a pillow at her side and seemed exhausted. She likely thought he was already asleep, and she crawled into the bed against him, pressing the entirety of her back and ass to him before going totally motionless. 

"Most people take a guy out first," he teased after moments of silence, causing her to jump a bit against him. 

"I can't sleep alone anymore," she murmured. 

He understood. It'd been long enough that he should've been used to it - waking up with no one, curling against nothing - but it was nice to feel someone there again. Neither spoke again and they wallowed in the comfort until they fell asleep. 

The next night, she asked him to sleep in her bed. It would've seemed presumptuous as fuck, but he couldn't deny that he'd slept better with her than without. He'd woken up to the dog nudging her legs and she'd slid away just like she came, no hint of ulterior motive or lingering affection. She didn't hint at any depth to the action beyond both needing a warm body to make them feel at home. And maybe it wasn't so bad being able to hold someone so powerful yet vulnerable after a day spent watching her use words like sustainable and profitability with Mags while he sat in the corner drinking or reading the comics she'd collected. It made time seem to pass easier, at least. 

It was the third night of him sleeping with her that he woke up to Vera shifting suddenly and leaving while she muttered something about crying. The lights of the park shone in through the windows and he could see her groggy steps and the slits of her eyes, barely open. She stumbled away and he rose carefully, watching in amusement for a moment until she reached the bar and sagged against it, looking as though she was going to collapse. He walked quietly to her side, Gnarly watching from his bed beside Vera's with his big, dumb eyes. Her eyes shot open when he touched her arm and she lurched forward, wrapping her arms around him tightly. Her voice was so low, he hardly heard it; "You're back." 

He got her to walk back to the bed and she fell back asleep immediately. He'd never seen someone actually sleep walk. He'd always figured it was just an excuse if you got caught stealing. He didn't say anything about it that morning and she seemed to remember nothing. Lucy had woken up thinking Duncan was crying when he wasn't, a few times, and he had to wonder if she'd been hearing her own kid's cries in her dreams. It depressed him, how alike they were - grasping for contact and still no closer to what they selfishly wanted. 

 

Even with everything he had, the memories still flashed occasionally. He'd be doing anything at all, and he'd find himself frozen, some inconsequential detail reminding him of it. Her scream, Duncan's yowl, the ferals - he'd gotten better at pushing it away, but it was harder when there wasn't shit to keep him focused. He'd been cleaning his rifle while he waited for Vera to return from rounds - more of a relaxing thing, now - and heard it in his head - meat ripping. Cloth torn and screeching echoing against concrete. He tried to ignore it and focused on the barrel's details, but the memory was hitting him harder than usual. 

Black and grey, red and green - a swirl of colors that made him nauseous. He felt a pressure on his chest and he was sinking - he was alone, entirely. Duncan could live without him, just like he had lived without even knowing his parents. He choked and rubbed away a tear that landed on the gun, angry at himself for letting it happen again. He hadn't had the stupid feeling for so long, thanks to all the booze and contracts, but it was just like when he'd arrived in Goodneighbor and ended up beating his head against an alley wall until it stopped. 

He set his rifle to the side, put back together by shaking fingers, and let his head fall into his hands. He thought he heard a noise, maybe, but he couldn't focus. Something nudged him and Gnarly's snout twisted between his arms, the dog's tongue slapping his face. It shook RJ enough to push the dog away and notice Vera watching him from the bar. "Hey, man," she said cautiously, setting her mask onto the counter, "you cool?" 

He wondered if he could say that his wet face was due to the dog, but she already seemed uncomfortable without having to call him out. "Yeah. Just - weird shit. I'm good." 

She eyed him hard and he had to wipe his arm over his face, even if it meant admitting it wasn't dog saliva or sweat. "What's up? Is it Duncan? I know it's a long wait, but-" 

"No, no," he interrupted, wishing she'd pretend nothing happened, "seriously, it's fine. I was just cleaning my gun." 

She smirked and retorted, "Just couldn't handle the beauty?" 

He let a half-smile show and sighed, leaning back and shutting his eyes. "A man's piece is a part of him." 

"And your gun - did it make you stop what you were doing to stare off into space?" 

His eyes snapped open. "Wha'd'ya mean?" 

She left the bar to fall into the chair beside him, both faced to the window through which he watched raiders pick fights with each other and hit up. "You've been doing it a lot. I _did_ learn some psychology in school - I think it's PTSD." 

He squinted at her. "That like Dickrot?" 

Her mouth twitched. "What the hell is that?" 

"You know, like, when your crotch gets all fucked up every month or something." 

"Herpes?" 

He snorted. "See, _that_ sounds stupid. What, like, Zeus, Aries, and Herpes?" 

Vera shot a glance outside. "How the fuck do you know ancient gods and not what the fuck herpes is?" 

"They were in Grognak - but I don't remember anyone having Dickrot." 

She put her hands up and closed her eyes for a moment, seeming to recenter. He smirked at her - he loved getting her riled up over her weird old life. "Holy shit, okay. So, what I was _saying_ is you might have PTSD, which happens when you experience something traumatic and your brain can't fully process it. A lot of people had it during the war - the Chinese had stealth combatants, and that did some of the worst. They'd have moments where they'd just freeze up and either think they're being attacked or end up having a breakdown or just getting really depressed. I'm sure it's common as hell out here."

RJ thought for a second. Who really cared what the name for it was? He just had to stay busy and it wouldn't bother him anymore. "Well, whatever it is, I'm fine. I just need something to shoot." 

She nodded, not entirely satisfied by his response. "We can do that. I need to go back to the Commonwealth, so we'll have some fun there." He forced a grin and pretended to be exhausted, laying his head on the back of the chair uncomfortably. Vera wasn't moving. "Maybe you should talk about it, too." 

He sighed shortly and opened one eye just enough to see her. "Or we could just get drunk again." 

She returned the sigh with a raised eyebrow. "Part of the employer and employee agreement is that you're supposed to be ready anytime you're getting paid, and you're technically salaried, so you're obligated to talk about it." 

RJ slapped his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes hard. "Boss, I just don't know what you're talkin' about, most of the time. We agreed I'd shoot stuff for you and you'd pay me. Other than that, I don't have to do much of anything." 

The Overboss was getting testy, he could tell, but it was more fun than reliving what had set him off in the first place. "I _said,_ I pay you to be a bodyguard, bitch, and a bodyguard ain't shit when he's frozen like a fish stick."

He grinned beneath his palms. "What's a-" 

He was interrupted by her hands swiping his away to cover his mouth. His eyes glittered in amusement above her fingers and Vera sighed. "Don't _fucking_ ask me what fish sticks are, motherfucker." 

She removed her hands slowly, but his smile made her wary. Slowly, he responded, "I didn't know my mom." 

Vera turned on her heel and walked off. He'd done it - she was distracted and he could spend the rest of the night not feeling anything. RJ settled back into the chair and put his arms behind his head, reclining with a victorious air. Vera was far from distracted, though, he realized, when the high-pitched rasp of duct tape erupted behind him and she tore his wrists from behind his head. He was thrown off balance just long enough for her to get an initial wrap around his arms, and she added another two layers before disappearing again. RJ laughed loudly, trying to jab at her, "A bodyguard ain't shit without _arms_ either, boss!" 

She returned, now in his field of vision, with a can of dog food. She hovered her finger over the top dangerously. "I'm going to open this and Gnarly is going to come. Then, I'm going to slather this meaty, nasty shit all over your pretty face, and Gnarly's going to lick it up in the most disgusting fucking way you could imagine. It'll get in your hair, in your nose, and probably your mouth. And I don't just mean his tongue, RJ. This shit was made from _animal byproducts_ \- that means it wasn't even the good parts."

He stared, arms bent over his shoulders, and called her bluff, "You think I'm pretty?" He feigned a sweet smile he'd learned from Duncan the time his kid had tried to find out where fire came from. She broke - her finger tapped the lid once and Gnarly was at her side in moments, whimpering and bouncing on his paws. RJ moved to stand, but Vera kicked a leg out over him and kept him down. She watched him like she was sharpening knives to cut his face off with and he considered that she hadn't been exaggerating. 

He finally shouted when she stuck her hand into the can, down to the knuckles, and a nasty squelching sound made his toes curl. "Okay! Holy shit - _ah, fu - fine!_ Okay, boss, fine! Jeez, you really wanna touch that stuff?" 

She smirked, swaying as the dog pounced against her thighs. "You gonna have a good old chat with the Overboss, RJ?" 

" _Fine,"_ he repeated gruffly. She removed her hand with another meaty noise and left to the kitchen, where he heard the dog food slap out of the can and onto a plate. Another weird thing she did. She was fucking with him now, letting him sit with his arms losing blood while she washed her hand with bottled water at the sink. There was a pause and he shifted loudly. "Well, are we or not?" 

He heard her laugh from elsewhere in the room and there was a clinking of glass before she reappeared, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and two glasses in the other. She set them on the table between the chairs like it was a casual sit-down, and poured a few shots before settling into her chair with a smirk. "So, first of all, I'm Vera when we talk alone, got it? If you get mouthy, I'll duct tape the rest of you to that chair and see how long it takes for you to beg to piss. And, lastly, don't get _mouthy_ with me right now. I'm in the mood to let Gnarly make you squeal."

He wasn't even sure what that meant, but he nodded, keeping his eyes on the darkening sky. "Alright, Vera." 

She slapped her thigh happily and took a sip, well-aware he couldn't. "Now, what are you having memories of?" 

It got too real too quickly. He bit his lip, something he'd stopped doing years ago, and cursed internally. "Lucy." 

She swiveled the whiskey in her glass thoughtfully. "Do you feel like it's your fault?" 

"Y-yeah." He had to stare at the far off mountain disappearing into nightfall. 

"But you know it wasn't. You saved your son - that's all anyone could have asked." 

A grimace twitched on his lips. "Doesn't mean anything when _I'm_ the reason she got attacked in the first place." 

She paused. "Why is that?" 

"I should've known better. I grew up in the wastes. I should _know_ how to set a perimeter and clear a location _before_ moving everyone in. I've done it a thousand _fucking times."_

He was talking through his teeth and didn't correct himself - Vera could see his facade shattering. "You can't be blamed for that. No one is perfect, and Lucy wouldn't blame you, either."

He spat, finally turning his head to look at her, "How do _you_ know that?" 

She was unphased, watching her whiskey wash against the glass. "I was out in combat, once, and my husband was on my team. I got shot in the leg, and he insisted for weeks that it was his fault because he'd been leading us. He said I could've died, and he would have been the reason. But it just wasn't true." She looked up slowly. "You think you have to punish yourself because she can't, but, you don't realize that she wouldn't, anyway. Love doesn't work like that." 

His arms were starting to tingle and he wanted to just stop talking. He didn't need to hear all the sentimental crap living people said - they couldn't tell you how it felt to have someone let you die. "But you didn't die. You don't know if you would have blamed him." 

"Like I said, it's about love, not death. Dying is something you can't control. Love, as played out as the word is, doesn't make you angry or vengeful. You're putting that into it yourself because she isn't here to tell you not to. You know she would say the same thing." 

She would. Lucy would've sat in his lap and kissed his cheek and told him to stop blaming himself. He'd have to see those shining brown eyes staring at him and he'd give in, like always. They'd end up playing with Duncan and laughing about something. His lip twitched. "What, then? Am I just supposed to forget about it all?" he asked with a sting to his voice. 

"No - just accept that it happened. It won't fix what's going on in your head, but it could help. You were wronged. You had your wife taken from you and whether it was a god ruining your life or a horrible, cosmic coincidence doesn't change the fact that you're here and Duncan is alive because of you."

He sighed, staring at the ground. "A god ruining my life, huh?" She watched him and he let the smallest smile perk the corner of his mouth. "Is that what the god, Herpes, does?" 

She rolled her eyes but smiled. He was so much like Nate, it freaked her out at times. 

He had the whole _don't-care_ thing mixed with a smart-ass and a sweetheart. She wanted to leave him in the chair and see how long it took for him to start whining. "I guess that isn't false," she breathed, lifting to undo the tape on his wrists. She stood behind him and paused just before she touched the tape. "Uh, maybe now is a good time for me to come clean." 

"No way - hold on, you can't confess stuff with me tied up." 

She scoffed loudly. "I'm sorry, but, are you telling the _Overboss_ what to do?" She decided to drop her hands and cross her arms, stepping to his side. 

He got the clue and looked away. "No way. I'm telling _you_ what _not_ to do because my arms are falling asleep." 

She patted his upper arm too hard, awkward blood flow making him cringe. "Ain't that sad. I'll do it, but don't forget that I know where you sleep." She undid the tape with a knife, cutting his arms free to drop into his lap. "You gonna listen?" 

"Yeah, yup, sure," he answered distantly, rubbing his arms as they tingled and twitched. 

She moved back to her chair while he finally grabbed the whiskey she'd poured for him and swallowed it fast. "Okay, RJ - be cool, okay?" He raised an eyebrow. "It's totally fine if you don't want to work for me anymore after this, or if you want to take one of my caravans to wherever. Please know that, okay?" 

He faltered, imagining the terrible shit she could say. "Uh, yeah." 

She cleared her throat and her eyes darted between his and the floor. "I care a lot about you, RJ. More than I meant to." She paused and rubbed dirt from her knuckles. "I think, maybe, it's, I don't know, unprofessional for me to keep going without mentioning it. You're really great." Her voice dropped on the last sentence and she looked like she'd been bullied into admitting she'd cheated at cards. 

"Why would I want to leave?" She looked at him with widened eyes before looking annoyed, like he hadn't understood. 

"It's, like, kind that makes it weird if we sleep in the same bed and you don't feel the same way," she clarified hastily. 

"Yeah, I got that." She tensed and looked away. "And why would I want to leave if the Overboss has a crush on me?" He was grinning at her, teasing her for being so serious. A light blush appeared beneath the remnants of her face paint. 

"So, we're cool then?" She was trying to act more casual than she felt and it was obvious. 

"Well, yeah," he laughed. "That'll make it a lot less weird next time your ass rubs me too much and I have to leave the room." 

She blushed harder and he laughed again, loving seeing his boss in such a desperate state. "Cool. Okay." 

She started to leave and he grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him. She was past uncomfortable - her eyes were wide and her reflexes slowed while she tried to figure out what he was saying. RJ just grinned at her, that stupid smile he always had when he had the upper hand, and tugged her down. She fell into his lap and her confusion seemed to break in that moment - she grabbed his jacket and pulled him close, her lips pressed to his with a viciousness that could only come from a romantic raider. She tasted like Nuka-Cola and cigarettes, a sweet bitterness that seemed to fit her. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against his chest, and touched his forehead to hers as they broke apart. "You're cute when you're pissed," he teased. 

She grinned back, "You have paint on your face." 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut one. If you wanna skip it, here's a summary:  
> They go to the Commonwealth and MacCready says he 'ain't cute'

Nothing had happened. RJ woke to the sound of Vera shuffling across the floor in a daze with Gnarly, watching her pull on the clothing she'd left behind. He was fully dressed, besides his boots, which she'd insisted be taken off despite his warnings about dirt fleas. They'd kissed, then Vera stripped to her underwear, and went to bed. He had pressed against her, but she only seemed to fall asleep that much quicker. 

He'd read in a shitty magazine that Pre-War people practiced a masochistic tradition of 'celibacy,' something Lucy had thought was sweet but he knew was just bullshit. Humans had to fuck - it was one of the only things humans even did, even back then. He'd seen enough ancient slag rags to know celibacy was fake. But, he wondered, was that something weird she did? He liked her, but he wouldn't marry another woman just to fuck - it made his skin crawl. 

She'd never stripped before, either. He'd felt raised scars along her abdomen and the bulletwound on her leg. Despite his touches, she had fallen asleep quickly and left him wishing he'd kept her in the chair. 

Vera disappeared down the hallway and RJ was left to keep guessing at how deep her Pre-War self went. Maybe she'd end up sweeping the carpet or washing windows with abraxo and street water. Or maybe she just wasn't ready. His marriage had been lost for a few years, but hers was still fresh. It'd been awhile since he'd been in bed with a girl, but it was how relationships started or transactions ended, from his experience. 

When she returned, he was trying to figure out how to blow smoke rings from where he still sat in bed. He glanced at her and wondered if she was regretting what she had said the night before. She was silent while she checked her guns and stuffed them alongside ammo and purified water into her pack. Gnarly shoved his snout under RJ's arm as he blew out a useless plume of smoke. The quiet was feeling tense and he offered, "Morning." 

A smile appeared instantly on her lips while she tightened the straps of her bag. "Morning. I hope you don't feel weird." 

"Just stiff," he hinted with a grin. "But I'm good." 

She smirked, still not looking at him as she threw the bag onto her shoulder. "Let's head out. I'm tired of this boring shit." 

He pushed Gnarly back and slid off the bed, watching her for some hint as to why she was being so fucking weird. His bag was still packed - he hadn't needed anything since he'd gotten there and the weight of it was a happy precursor to finally being on the road again. 

It was just like when they'd first gotten there - Vera wore her mask and offered hardly a word to her crew while RJ stared at the disturbing murals of happy bottlecaps and grinning children. They entered the transit center and she stood at the front of the train as they boarded it to pull the lever, checking for him over her shoulder while he crossed his arms and watched the dog chew a teddy bear on the floor. As soon as it began moving, she seemed to appear in front of him. 

RJ looked up slowly and found her tearing her mask off to lean forward and kiss him hard. He hadn't expected it, and took a moment to realize that she was straddling him on the train's seating. She bent his head back against her lips, her hands flat on his chest. She didn't hesitate to press her tongue into his mouth, aggressively twirling against his as he grinned into her. 

She broke away to run a hand along his throat and he laughed, "I was wonderin' when you'd stop resisting my charms." 

She smirked. "Charms or not, I couldn't touch you knowing Colter slept in that fucking bed." 

"Who-" She interrupted him with her lips, her fingers trailing between them to his belt, where she fingered the buckle teasingly. She twisted her hips against his, where he was already getting hard, the touch of her free hand grazing against his collar bones while she made small sounds on his tongue. She seemed to feel it against her thigh and pushed herself onto the ground, careful of the speeding train's bumping turbulence. 

RJ was at a loss watching her undo his pants and pull his cock free, her thumb brushing the tip while her fingers wrapped and rewrapped in a playful grasp. She grinned as she leaned forward, pulling his knees to her sides to balance her, and she flicked her tongue where her thumb had been. RJ groaned softly and she whispered, "I better hear you enjoy this." 

She didn't take a moment before shoving him into her mouth, her tongue wriggling against the underside to tear another groan from him. He let his jaw fall open and swept a hand into her hair as she filled herself to her throat. "Ah, shit," he growled, wishing like hell she'd move. She held him there and moaned, waves of vibration making him buck and curse again. She brought her head back slowly, her tongue flat beneath him, and dropped him from her lips with a grin. 

"Fuck my mouth," she said in a low voice and he tightened his hold in her hair. She wouldn't say it if she didn't mean it, right? He pushed her forward and she took him back into her mouth easily. 

He let her breathe for a moment before he bucked into her cautiously; she moaned again and he took the cue to hold her head in place as he began thrusting. Her lips covered her teeth and her tongue tried to meet with his thrusts and it was all he could do to keep from trying to fuck her in the moving train. She caught his rhythm and looked up with teary, sweet eyes as he watched her throat contract into another long moan. 

He tensed his grip on her head and pounded into her mouth, groaning louder as she took it without a noise of complaint. He pulled her down instinctively when he felt the warmth of an orgasm too soon, and he nearly dropped his hold in fear he'd pushed her too far, but she stayed set with her nose in his hair. Her tongue appeared between his cock and her lower lip, dragging a feint touch against his balls. She inhaled his scent and he couldn't hold back, engrossed in how she lavished him. He came into her throat and she twisted back, swallowing before she could gag. 

RJ stared at her dumbly, no words in his mind that could follow what she'd done. She'd actually smelled him and tasted parts of him even Lucy hadn't gone near with a tongue. It was animalistic and kept him stuck in her gaze while he fixed his clothing. She grinned; "Thanks." 

Finally he blurted, " _What_?" 

She laughed and swung herself onto the bench beside him, sighing hard. She placed her mask back over her eyes and smiled. "You're cute. Like you never had your dick sucked." 

"Well, not never, but not-" 

She shouldered him hard to shut him up and shouted, "Oh, good! We're here." 

There were a few raiders scattered around in the transit center, one practicing shots at a crumbling wall. A guy in the same kind of dirty rag and jeans Vera wore and a mask similar to hers stepped forward and waved lazily. 

"Mornin', Overboss. Got the caravans out where you said and the guys at the water front," he reported in a slurred voice. He forced a vacant smile and she slapped him hard on the back, gripping the fabric to jostle him while her dog growled; "Hey, and they said to let you all rot! Have some on me back home, huh?" She released him and he crossed his arms, neither respecting or disrespecting her. 

"Thanks, uh, Overboss," he muttered and she waved behind her as she left, RJ at her back. 

When they hit the Commonwealth dirt, RJ felt home - even more so than he'd felt in the Capital. He'd done real shit there - shakedowns, clearing areas for caps split between him and two guys he probably wouldn't know long, and enough drinking to kill a Yao Guai. Vera breathed in. "This place looks like shit. You think I could get them to clean if I pay them enough?" 

RJ stared at her hard. "No. I think you'd have to kill them all if you ask them to." 

She held his faux-serious gaze - she could slaughter the room and no one would know, but he knew she was into being a friendly boss. "Disciples used to tear people up, skin them, bleed them out - it was fun, but I just felt like we'd get more innocents to listen to us if we only had fun with people who betrayed or disrespected us." She broke the stare with a grin faced to the parking garage. "Had a fancy little ceremony in the wading pool. We got them on their knees and I asked them one at a time, really making a few shit their pants, to call me Overboss. If they did, they agreed, and, if not, I slit their throat."

She turned back to him with her hand up like she thought he'd overreact - "It was just a dominance display. Raiders love that whole gorey pageantry shit, and I'm good at pretending to be pissed off all the time. Only kept three Disciples after it all." She started walking, finally, and Gnarly leapt to her ankles. She continued, "The Pack didn't catch it so bad. As soon as their Alpha's head came off, they did what they do and started a little riot. You just gotta hit them. The Disciples were smart, so it had to be death or loyalty." 

She snuck a looked over her shoulder. "Sorry - I'm rambling."

RJ looked up from her ass and blinked. "What else is there to do in the wastes?" 

She smiled and went on. "Mags, Lizzie, and William - apparently they're from Diamond City. I think that's why they knew a good plan when they heard it. Honestly, I guess I really just played favorites, but the others were just fuckin' rude." 

"So, are you the Overboss of the Operators, then?" 

She scoffed. "God no. They're pretentious - they're more like investors. They gave me numbers, and that's all it really took to get the few Disciples. The Pack, though, that was all me. They had this weird, like, tribal thing and sent two big guys at me, but, after that, they just gave. They're the ones that cause the most trouble, though. They're not allowed in the Commonwealth, yet."

"Seems pretty complicated for a raider gang." 

She sighed. They passed a torn farm house with a Brahmin rotting in the road. "It's not a raider gang. I'm reviving this shit hole like I was trained to." She looked back again, as though checking to see if he was listening. "They estimated that the war would leave China and Russia decimated and villages and cities would be in shambles. We had to learn all this shit - teach the dumb, raise the poor, and inflate their currency to something normal." 

"China - those are the ones that did all this shit, right?" He was listening, but it was hard to catch the words that sounded misplaced. 

"Well, we were at war with them and Russia. They were communists and we were capitalists and it just became this big shitshow of blowing up their own egos to fill draft petitions. Nate was scheduled for duty in December up in Mongolia. I don't know which would've been worse," she added softly, her husband's name like a curse word, now. "I get stuck in the past sometimes. Sorry." 

"It's cool," he shrugged. He didn't mind hearing her stories - it was like she was an actor on the old radio shows going through ancient plots that made no sense. He'd heard one of them say communist once, too, but he'd just figured it was Old World slang. She'd taken them north, checking her Pip-Boy regularly. Gnarly was checking their surroundings, endlessly stuffing his snout into the dirt. "Where we headed, anyway?" 

She looked up from her map and covered her eyes from the sun. "Place I used to live. I hear there's some settlers here, so I figured I'd welcome them." Her words worried him, but he pushed it back and remembered her mouth on him. 

She played the radio from her arm as they walked, though he knew she could probably talk the entire way. He wasn't bothered by it; he didn't always tune in, entirely, but he cared enough to remember what she said. It was hard to ignore anecdotes about murder, anyway. She stopped the music as they neared a tree line beside a small river and she pointed towards the other side, where ripped houses slumped in the midday heat. "That's it over there. I don't know anything about these people, so stay cool." 

He made a face - "I literally haven't used my gun or even a loud voice for a week." 

She turned to him threatening. "Just stay fuckin' cool, MacMouthy." 

He was offended and jabbed back, "You're the one using their mouth like a pro." 

She smirked and hissed, "Stay fucking cool and I'll use it all night." 

She turned away before he could answer and started towards a wooden bridge. Before they could hit it, a man stepped onto the street inside the neighborhood and called across the water, "What's your business here?" He was fairly strong-looking, but wore some kind of tan coat thing that looked like he'd been military, and it bothered RJ - he'd probably turn out to be a dick. 

"Need to meet with your leader, please," Vera answered calmly, smiling beneath the crude cuts of her mask. The man seemed uneasy, but came to the other end of the bridge as they reached it. 

"You got him. How can I help you?" He sounded like he'd been trapped too many times to be near a metal-faced woman and her dog. 

"My name is Vera - I'm from a settlement out west that is looking to form a unity among settlements. We heard you all moved in, and I wanted to ask you to join." Even RJ could tell the words were venemous and sounded fake as hell, but only if the man refused her. "Can we talk?" 

The man looked back, making sure his settlers weren't in view. "Look, we just got here. Maybe you come back when we're comfortable, huh?" 

Her smile was frozen on her face. "No, I need to do it now. It's the best time, you know. Before raiders start coming in or the ferals sniff you out." 

The man shouldered his rifle and RJ pressed his hand to his own where it hung at his shoulder. "I said we aren't comfortable. We don't have anything, so if you're trying to steal from us, you won't get anything." 

"Sir, whoever you are - I'm going to be frank with you. I lead raiders kind of like I lead this dog - they don't do anything without my word and they'll do everything for me. Now, I'm not going to threaten you all, but I can't promise some rogue assholes won't come tear into your shit like a mongoose."

RJ whispered, "That's not a thing." 

She stuttered, "Like, uh, a fuckin' Yao Guai. I can give you guards and a spot in our caravan route - all you gotta do is sell us food." 

The man grimaced. "Food. You want me to believe raiders are buying food. You two should leave before I shoot." 

Vera threw up her middle finger and turned. "I'll just let you get comfortable," she shouted back, nodding to Gnarly to follow her. RJ stared back at the man for a moment and waved awkwardly. 

"Uh, see ya'," he offered before heading after Vera. He heard the man scoff and RJ walked beside her. "What was that? You were so nice to that other guy - what happened?" 

She shrugged. "It never works the first time. I got this whole thing we do, now - we send someone, usually not me, to make the initial offer, wait a few weeks, then check back in after bad things had to have happened, and we help them rebuild. It's mostly former slaves that help with that - they wanted to see the world and shit, so... " She shook her head. "Damn I gotta stop doing that. It's so weird to have someone I can talk to instead of just bully." 

He smirked. Of course she'd planned it all. "So, uh, about that mouth...?" 

Vera turned her head away as she grinned. "You can't be ready to go again already. Just wait until tonight. I'm thinking we'll stop in Bunker Hill, maybe. Diamond City could be fun, I guess. Everything out here sucks anyway." 

"Bunker Hill has no privacy," he offered shortly, making her laugh. 

"One time and you're addicted?" She shook her head and bumper her fist to his shoulder. "Just keep it safe till we get there." 

They didn't get far before she gave. Vera had decided on checking out a Red Rocket nearby, insisting the places had extra stock of cigarettes hiding somewhere in case of a fuel crisis. He didn't know what she meant, but cigarettes were always a prize. She'd ended up on the floor, looking for a safe or door beneath a large workbench and RJ decided to test her. She'd been confusing up to that point, so he'd decided on trying to do everything he was told _not_ to do that he always wanted to. Rather than help her search or avert his eyes, RJ knelt behind her and ran two fingers across her crotch, feeling a small dip in her clothing that made her shiver. 

Her voice didn't give her away, though, as she said flatly, "Holy shit - I said wait until we're in DC, man." He loved how casually she referred to him - he was just fucking his boss. 

He didn't answer and continued the movements of his fingers, pressing the jean material when she twitched. She raised her chest from the ground, on all-fours, and her back dipped suddenly, her facade dropping as her hips tilted against his touch. He smirked at her - no one was going to be weird if they fucked. Everyone fucked. She'd even one-upped him. 

The thought of owing her made him press hard into the soft curve of her cunt, causing her shoulders to tense. "RJ," she murmured, a thickness in her tone, "I can't. I have," she cleared her throat and shook her head softly, either holding back noises or clearing her head, "a thing you need to know about first." 

His movements slowed, but continued, and he replied, "Well, I know you don't have a dick, so what else is there?" 

She moved away from his touch, though he tried to follow her and pull her back. Vera stood and turned to him, her expression hard and her eyes turned to the ground. "It's just, I thought people would have it here, but they don't, and I don't want to get rid of them because you can't get it done anymore, so it's, like, part of me, I guess," she rambled, losing any hint of the darkness in her voice only moments before. RJ stared at her, a dull look in his eyes that meant she was being vague. People used to understand the vagueness - they'd realize how inappropriate something sounded and put it together without clarity being a necessity. She huffed shortly and began undoing her armor. 

He furrowed his brow, "I don't think you said 'hey, let's do this,' but actions speak louder." 

She rolled her eyes and she dropped her cuffs, pulling off her shirt beneath to reveal a thick cloth bandaging of a bra. She turned pink lightly and muttered, undoing the wrap, "I fuckin' lost my bra in a goddamn western bullshit roller fucking coaster and I look goddamned homeless now." RJ grinned at her anger, watching her tediously undo the wrap to reveal herself. As soon as the cloth fell, he lips parted and he stared. Vera held the coiled wrap awkwardly and bit her lip when he stood and stepped closer. She looked horrified. 

"Are those in your skin?" 

She pressed a finger to one of the small silver balls on either side of each nipple, revealing a bar that shot through her like a needle. He hissed at the sight - she was so fucking calm about it and her tits looked perfectly normal otherwise, but a phantom pain shot through his chest at the thought. 

She stepped back. "Is it freaking you out? See, this shit is ancient; women in France did it back when the US was fucking founded and I figured it was pretty cool!" 

He met her eyes with a combination of confusion and dilated lust - "Vera, I don't know what you're fucking talk about. Where is France? I don't fucking know because it probably isn't real anymore." 

She snapped her fingers awkwardly. "Right. Um, these are piercings;" she had expected having this talk with Shaun one day if he ever walked in on her changing like her fucking brother had, and Shaun would've ended up crying for a different reason. "They put a needle through, then the bar, then, uh, the closure. 

He overexaggerated disbelief for her, knowing somehow how to make her calm down, " _On purpose_? How do you even decide to do that? Can you feel anything?"

She winced and murmured, "That's exactly what my sister said." She bit her lip again and he considered interrupting her, but watching her whole _thing_ crumble because he made her nervous somehow was too great. For some reason, ever since she'd made her interest known, she'd become more anxious when she was alone with him. He figured she had some weird secrets making her hesitate, but silver metal through her flesh was some shit he'd never even thought of. He would have guessed ghoulification. 

He was staring again like she was a new breed of animal and she crossed her arms, inadvertently perking herself higher, spilling over her forearm. She continued, "I just dont want to get rid of them. If they freak you out, I can just wear a shirt." 

He interrupted her anxious chatter by stepping forward and brushing a thumb across the silver ball and over her nipple, causing goosebumps to rise on her bare arms. She didn't move away, and RJ took the chance to wrap an arm around her waist, his other hand curved around a breast. She inhaled quickly as he pressed to her and her eyes seemed to darken as she grinned. "Don't ever wear a shirt again, if that's the other option," he teased, pulling her from the moment enough to make her cheeks tinge at the feeling of him rolling the piercing beneath his fingers like a new toy. 

"What if it gets weird?" she whispered, turning her face into his chest as he arched against his touch. 

"What's weird? If it's you fucking me, I might be a little thrown off, but I've never tried something like that, and I just-" 

"No," she interrupted with a palm to his chest beside her forehead, "but it's nice to know you're so open-minded." RJ smirked and thought too hard about it, deciding he wasn't interested, probably, anyway. "I've always liked it a little rougher? I just don't want to overstep-" 

He had to interrupt her again, wanting to prove that he'd stopped questioning her days ago - the hand at her waist shot up to tighten a grip in her hair and he pulled her back, revealing the worrying lip and heavily-lidded eyes that had built from his passive attention. Despite her collected exterior, she seemed absolutely desperate when he touched her. He'd more expected her to leap back and fuck him stupid as soon as he pressed his fingers to her, or even rattle him up and insist they keep moving. Instead, she was glazed-eyed and flushed. 

RJ pressed his lips to her throat, hair prickling sweetly at her skin like it proved he was real. She arched harder, letting him pull her head back painfully while he sucked a hickey to her throat. He'd never done more than this, however, in terms of weird. Girls would play along then lie down or crawl on top and it was essentially set in stone after that. Vera's reactions seemed preliminary - as though she was begging for more until she found what she wanted. RJ was in control entirely, the only source for her sounds as she whimpered at the rush of blood to her skin.

He grinned against her and spoke lowly, "How weird does this get?" 

Vera stepped back, head still in his hold, and answered like she'd practiced the line, "If I don't like it, I'll say stop. If I have to make you stop, I will. Easy enough?" 

He nodded and pulled her back, pressing her to his lips and the ache against his leg. His hand went straight to her ass, fingering beneath her jeans to dip his fingers against the soft skin. She moved into his touch and RJ considered every awful magazine he'd seen in search of anything he'd wanted to do, but couldn't. A woman with objects purposefully lodged into her own breasts had to be some Pre-War deviant - he'd never seen anything like it in the rags. Either way, he loved how easily she reacted to his fingers because of it; she was practically squirming already. 

He'd waste time on planning when he didn't have a rager pressed between them and she wasn't completely bare-chested. His hand left her hair to find her other nipple, tapping against the bars and soothing her tightened nerves to make her whimper. They were like cheats, turning her on in a moment whereas it'd take ten minutes with any other woman. Vera slid a hand between them and felt for his cock, dragging her fingers against the hardened shaft like it was holy. He grinned and bucked playfully. 

She pulled away again, though his touch followed and he forced her to avert her eyes in order to talk between sounds. "Just give me a second." 

She hadn't said stop, but he let her leave the garage while he pressed a palm to his erection with a groan. She returned with a wrench and dropped it to the floor. "If I reach for the wrench, I want to stop. Just in case I, uh, can't use my mouth," she grinned as he ignored her awkward words and pulled her close again. "Talk," she demanded softly, curving against him as he ran his hands up her back. 

A lot of girls hated that, so he smirked and pressed his cheek to hers, craning her head slightly as he moved a hand to her crotch, seeming to trap her. "I've been thinking about your pussy all fucking day. You got so wet for me, already, I can feel it." She moaned lightly and ground against his touch, seeming to like his words. He took the plunge and wrapped his free hand around the back of her neck, turning her and pushing her down aggressively. She didn't gasp or stop him - instead, she played along and got back onto all-fours for him. RJ bit his lip at the sight of her, topless and begging with the turn of her waist. He knelt behind her quickly and tore her jeans down her hips, soft red marks where her body curved and yielded against the fabric. She just made a noise of satisfaction and wriggled her hips at him, her ass entirely bared as her pussy seemed to glisten. 

"This some Pre-War secret shit, too?" he asked in a husky voice, dragging a finger across the slit of her cunt. She tensed, but forced herself back into the exhibitionist pose. 

"Gift from my hus- uh, a friend- it's hard to carry razors everywhere." RJ grinned - she pulled out of the sexual tone at times and seemed surprised and twice-as-reactive as if he'd flirted. Flirting hadn't worked - she needed to be sure he wanted to fuck by how he toyed with her, it seemed. Now, with the mention of her bare skin still on her lips, she easily cried out when he pressed his mouth to her and ran his tongue from her clit to her entrance, dipping against her as she squirmed. 

Vera ground against the feeling of sharp facial hair against her skin around the mouth she'd stared at too long. She wanted to shut his mouth as often as she wanted to ride it, having hidden her crush since she'd eyed his stark, handsome face in the bar. She'd never fucked someone after only knowing them for a week, but he'd been dominating in how he'd touched her, and she couldn't resist a strong hand anymore than she could resist using one. 

She backed into his touch, feint and teasing as he tasted her, and she felt herself turn red at the thought. She and Nate had done some shit - they'd bought things out of vans that you could acquire from a store you could be seen walking out of, and there had been instances of blood, but Nate had been the only one. They'd met right out of sophomore year and served together - there weren't any lines developed and they felt it out together. RJ was a new man entirely - he hadn't even been born within a century of her, and she had likely convinced him into this position because she'd spent every night grinding her ass against him while he slept to induce hard-ons he'd have to deal with in another room. She'd loved hearing what few noises he made loud enough to carry through the door. She had imagined him leaned against a wall with the thought of her in his mind and it thrilled her as though she was cheating on Nate - as though she was evil for moving on. Despite the burden of the guilt, it made her even more desperate in his arms, going against everything she'd learned about propriety to get fucked in an empty gas station. It was horrifying compared to what her mother had taught her. 

She was torn from the image of RJ with his dick in his hand by his real hands wrapping at her thighs to hold her trapped against his breath. She heard him breathe a laugh before his tongue pressed to her clitoris and she threw her head back, losing track of him as she roiled. His voice was muffled between her thighs - "You're real hot for me, huh?" He seemed surprised, though tried to mask it with 'dirty talk.' She moaned weakly and sought his lips again. 

"So fucking bad," Vera breathed, considering taking the situation by force and riding him dumb. She liked pleasing - it made her feel powerful, like when Nate had rolled his eyes back and nearly choked the first time they'd tried anal - and she enjoyed pleasing from both sides of a rope. 

He surprised her, though, when he wrapped a hand around her breast to pull her up, flicking at the bar through her nipple, and swept his arm across her back to pin her arms behind her. Vera arched her ass into him, his erection causing her to moan suggestively as she forced her boots and jeans away from her legs. She refused to ask with words - knowing he'd do what she wanted without words made her grin. He understood, and she felt his lips at her neck. "How bad you want me, boss? I never had a girl suck me off and just walk out - and you _worshipped_ me," he growled, gripping her hip with his free hand while he pulled her closer by the elbows. "You think about fucking me as much as I think about you? Is that why you got so wet, so quick? You got fantasies of me, boss?" 

The word on his lips sounded nothing like when her crew called her boss. His voice was boyishly cute with his bratty attitude, but, in her ear, he was low and deep like all of her wet dreams had manifested. She loved hearing it, feeling so small in his hands, as though his sexual appeal broke through any barrier or _propriety_. 

Vera whimpered and jerked lightly, bouncing her tits in an effort to invite his touch. He stayed put and she answered through tight teeth - "I've wanted to make you cum since I first saw your cute ass getting drunk." She knew she wasn't entirely playing along by calling him cute, but he'd fucked with her enough for her to do it back. He took the bait and bit into her neck and she serpentined her ass across his hips. 

Through her skin, he replied, "I ain't cute." 

She bit her lip as he let her skin pull from his teeth before biting just above the reddening skin, adding a second mark. "I loved hearing you jerk off," she giggled darkly. "That was cute." 

He loosed his bite again and moved to run his nose against her hair. "So, you knew I wanted to fuck you, and you just kept makin' me wait for _this_?" He accentuated the word by snaking his hand around the curve of her hip to grab her ass tightly. She giggled again and he chuckled. "I'm gonna have to get you to make that up to me, boss." 

She pursed her lips and continued her grinds against him. "Some nice train head wasn't enough?" 

He pushed her forward towards the workbench, pinning her hips to his. He spoke in her ear again, chills running down her neck. "Nah, boss. But almost." 

She had to smile at his ruthless sweetness, making the effort to still compliment her despite his power over her in that moment. He pulled her elbows against his chest and played with her nipples, teasing her into whimpering and moaning in tandem as her nerves flared between her legs. She felt his smile against her neck. 

He dropped her in a moment, turning her suddenly to lift her by the hips onto the workbench. She spread and covered her embarrassed grin, still wracked by the gorgeous man she hardly knew staring at her like meat. RJ pulled her arm away and pressed his lips to hers more gently than she'd expected, earning a sweet moan of loss from her as he pulled back. He glanced to her eyes shortly, before pulling her ass towards the edge before he undid his pants. His cock, as he freed it, was as viciously perfect as she'd remembered from that morning. It had felt so soft and thick on her tongue, bearing down on her tonsils so perfectly, she had wanted the train ride to be longer. 

Vera bit her lip as he ran his head along her cunt, tilting his chin as he groaned softly. It was too slow, suddenly, and all she could think of was pulling and thrusting and pounding - she whimpered in a pleading tone just before he pushed in, filling her completely as she dropped her jaw and twisted her eyes shut. 

She didn't say stop, so he moved a hand to her throat, testing the waters before she opened her eyes again and smirked. It was like a green light and he tightened his grip, pulling back his hips to thrust evenly and deeply, her muscles tightening in convulsions. She breathed a low moan as he choked her just hard enough for her head to feel heavy. Hoarsely, she spoke between thrusts, "Wanna - _mm_ \- see what I learned in the Army?" 

He didn't need to answer before she seemed to grip his cock with her muscles, tightening impossibly around him. RJ answered her with a long groan and pushed himself to speed up, his grip uneven at her throat. She kept herself composed between languid moans and whispered, "You gonna cum for me already, baby?" 

He laughed shortly as she tried to hold a sneer, but her expression faltered when he hiked upwards inside of her and fucked into her with all the strength he had from the position. She went nearly limp, letting him slam her against the metal bench as his hand left her throat to pull and pinch at her nipples. 

Vera arched weakly against him and swept his hands away to pull his closer, his jacket grazing her nipples as she brought their faces close. She growled lowly, "I'm going to suck you fucking dry, RJ. I'm going to get you in a room and ride that cock until you can't beg anymore."

He pressed their foreheads together and smirked. "Oh yeah? Well, I'd like to see you try getting on top of me first. I've been craving this ass and I could fuck you till your legs stop working, boss. Anything I can do to get that drooly look on your face." 

He chuckled at her as she blushed and whimpered in fake offense, pulling back just enough that he ducked his head down to bite at the unmarked side of her neck, pounding her endlessly against the bench. She cried out again and started twitching her hips in time with him. "F-fuck RJ, please, please," she whined, her eyes shutting as he adjusted his bite to a new spot near her ear and drove into her ache so perfectly. 

She came hard, like taking a hit too heavy, and it made her mind blank out and all she could feel was the sensation of his cock thick inside of her as his lips curled against her skin in what she guessed to be his stupid smile. He lost his grip on her skin as he jerked unevenly and his hands shot to her hips, thrusting into her short and heavy as she felt him twitch against her tightened muscles. She knocked his hat off and ran a hand into his hair to pull him to face her as he came, his lip caught between his teeth as he tried to hold back. Their eyes met and he groaned, kissing her hard. He slowed while they came down, pressing a hand to her jaw. Vera was panting as they parted, and RJ kissed her forehead before turning to grab her clothes. She slid from the workbench, noticing it had become slippery, and covered herself awkwardly. He threw her clothes to her and raised an eyebrow. 

"What's up, boss? Too much?" He was serious but covered it coolly, letting her vent or praise either way, and she beamed. He was so goddamn sweet, she wanted to tie him up somewhere just for the fun of it. 

"Hell no," she scoffed between heavy breaths. "It's just been awhile." He smiled softly as she dressed. 

"Is that why you were so responsive?" The smile turned to a teasing one and she shook her head seriously. 

"No, I just like fucking." 

"Well shi- well that's great," he managed, unable to find words that weren't curses. She laughed. 

"I know you said you swore off swears for Duncan, but aren't there more, like, easy and monumental ways to prove yourself? It would literally be easier to start a new town and just be a fucking mayor than never cursing. You cursed when you were saying all that filthy shit." She grinned and he shrugged. 

"I dunno - it was the whole big thing to do in Lamplight and it's like a reminder, now." She tightened her lips in thought as she pulled her armor on and tightened it. 

"I'm just like, you did it for a long-ass time, but most vows of silence don't last a lifetime. You gotta talk again so you can prove you fuckin' learned from it, you know? Abstaining doesn't mean you've changed - it's just the first step to changing." She looked at him for a response and he let a half-smile tease her. 

"I'll keep that in mind, boss." He turned out of the garage and into the old store. Gnarly was nipping at the stuffing between his teeth from the bear he'd finally torn into, oblivious and sweet. RJ had never been a fan of dogs, but hers was smart and soft and nudged him awake for no reason. "So, we headin' out or is this our land, now, since we marked it?" 

He felt a short punch to the shoulder blade as she hushed him, stepping over Gnarly to reach her cigarettes. "Christ - I said we were going to Diamond-fuckin-City." 

"Nah, you said Bunker Hill but then you have into my wise advice." She was lighting her cigarette when she looked up at him, fire glowing in her eyes perfectly to match her forced smile as she slid onto a stool. 

"You're nothing like my crew. Talk like that - I'd have to whip you, probably. Nisha had me do it back when we were cool and it was because the guy decided to let Nisha know how fuckin' important he was." She whistled low as she pulled the cigarette from her lips. "Bled like a pig." 

She'd slipped up and he grinned, "The heck is a pig?" 

She blew the smoke from her nostrils and lips fiercely. "You always fuckin' misdirect me, you shit. But you're so fuckin' cute about it, I can't even be mad." She winked, knowing he hated that damn word since she'd called him it when they'd gotten drunk and tried to brawl in the Rooftop Grille. 

"Alright," he gave, "so you're saying I'm special because I'm _not_ in your crew, so I get to talk to you however I want." She stared at him hard, taking a drag like a pissed off child. 

"You're not on my crew _and_ you're a cute-ass little fuck head." She laughed as he dropped his eyes to the floor with a disapproving smirk. 

"I'm gonna mess you up tonight, boss. You keep saying shi- stuff like that..."

She swiveled off the stool and started out the door, snapping her fingers to call Gnarly to her side. She called back, "Let's get to work then, Speakeasy!" 

He made a face as he threw his pack over a shoulder, mumbling, "What the heck is that?" 

They wandered through a decimated area lined with raider corpses, though Vera seemed to regard them as decorations. She walked ahead, following her Pip-Boy like she always did, and he tried again to think of the magazines he'd seen throughout his life to figure out a way to make her break and lose it like she wanted to. She kept this air of seriousness that made her fun to tease, but made it hard to overtake her otherwise. It was fun just like the teasing, as it had been when he was a kid - you kept pushing until something gave and you got a real reaction. He took a swig from a canteen he'd found in her extra room and filled with her reserve, eyeing her from behind as he thought of his recent luck. Once he was sure Duncan was cured, life would be fucking fun and games as long as she kept him around. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Expect E X P O S I T I O N  
> lots of talking. By the way, it's Kegel exercises that she learned in the Army. From other chicks. Not, like, a CO.

When Vera was fifteen, her mother discovered the rope she'd been using to sneak her boyfriend into room through her window at night. There had been shouting and, inevitably, glass had been broken by a topaz bird statue, but it had ended somewhat peacefully. She was kicked out on the grounds that women like her had no place in society, despite all the words her mother had spoken about strong women and voting, and it was on the sidewalk that silence came fell a comforting rain. Vera had ended up staying at a friend's house, whose parents were too drunk to impede or notice her, and she'd enlisted in the early draft - on hold until her birthday. They'd legalized sixteen-year-olds joining again as soon as the Reds shot back for the first time, scooping up drop-outs as fast as they could be shot down, and she'd seen it is an easy choice. 

Thankfully, she'd done fairly well in the service, learning to use Power Armor as her muscles were still developing - to leave her ice-bathing - and she practiced her aim and control while others wrote home. It was the logical thing to do in her mind - take a job that won't refuse you and do enough until you've got it easy. She'd lost track of her parents since then, never wanting to prove to them that she fit perfectly well into society. She'd found a boyfriend, who rose through ranks with her while they secretly fucked in mop rooms, and she was even going to goddamned college. She wasn't sure if she was happy she'd never seen them again, but it was too far lost to consider anymore. 

There was a lot to enjoy in a paradise of raiders, though, and it made it easier to handle the sudden distance from everything she knew. They could manufacture chems as fast as they could take them and they'd figured out how to make something like moonshine. Vera didn't miss the Old World much, anymore, and her new lifestyle was most of the reason why. She'd been quick to obey in school and in the service, but it had all been in search of something that made her happy and let her relax. Nate had made her happy, but their lives were so deeply entangled in her work and school, and she had no time for herself because there was always paperwork and mail and checking accounts and war. She could barely stand to remember how completely ridiculous life had been.

She had reveled in her new life at first, drinking in the shouts of bloodshed and the errant fires lighting up a midnight massacre around her. Soon, though, she had dialed it back, considering the words from others about the previous boss, Colter, and seeing the parallel between herself and the man. His problem was that he called it too soon - the raiders weren't happy doing nothing, but he wanted to be finished so he could retire and die fat. 

She'd seen the same tendencies as herself and Nate in RJ. Everything about him called to her as soon as they'd hit Diamond City with Tony and he'd become drunk enough to tell battle stories and bitch about people in general terms. It was all trivial things he did that she recognized from Nate - he refused to start a day until he had to and started nights well before the sun set, taking shots and sneaking chems behind her back, as though she couldn't hear consecutive hits of Jet. He'd even spent time reading, which was something she'd only seen someone do once since thawing. 

He took any moment he could to do nothing, reading old comics and magazines she begun collecting for him and drinking intermittently to keep a solid buzz. It passed the time as comfortingly as sleep, and it was a marking in the wastes - where everyone else toiled and bartered - and suggested that he was waiting for some kind of happiness, too. It was kind of like depression, but the coping mechanisms were readily available and the signs were much more blatant than they'd been in the days of hiding pregnancies and sneaking liquor. 

In the past, he would have looked like any other 'fun guy,' but the wastes were a place of survival and disease and he'd honed the skills of leisure. That was entirely why most of her crew were raiders in the first place - they'd hated working and manual labor and wanted to have some fucking fun. RJ was smart enough to find an in-between - killing to get the caps he needed and spending every other moment fucking relaxing. 

She hadn't relaxed in weeks, every free moment plagued with reminders of locations and plans and headaches over dehydration. 

But RJ was a hedonist deep down, just like everyone wanted to be, but few could afford to. Like anyone else, he'd stepped back to take responsibilities that nagged at his free time and focused on making things as easy as possible. When indulgence was offered without restriction, he'd given into it quickly and handled himself well, obviously having spent nights in Goodneighbor in a similar state. It made her sad imagining how stressed he had to have been during the benders, his future still a blurry chaos. As long as she was in charge, he had caps, and as long as the cure was effective, his son would thrive. She would even help him send enough caps to the kid to help him start a caravan of his own, if RJ asked her to. With her, he could give in to the awful pass-times he hid beneath the greed he'd learned. Greed in poverty was logic.

 

In the Commonwealth, unlike her oasis, they had absolutely nothing within view and both were growing bored. She'd been thinking about anything, staring up at the sky as she trudged forward, having walked the path between Nuka-World and Diamond City too many times to forget the rocks that never moved and the trees that never rotted. RJ had apparently trained himself for journies, holding a blank expression that matched caravan guards'. 

"Tell me about growing up here," she demanded, breaking him from his focus on the dust drifting across the wastes. RJ grunted and she glanced back, slowing to level with him. "Who taught you to do shit? Like, how do you ever learn about anything?" 

He glanced at her with an offended smile. "We had schools. Pretty fancy, I know. I think Hancock and anyone who grew up in Diamond City went to school there, and I had another kid running our school. I didn't go much because, you know," he stretched his arms out and folded them behind his head with a prideful look, "I was the mayor, so I was pretty busy." 

She whistled. "Oh wow - democratically elected, even?" 

"I dunno about any of that, but I punched the girl Princess in the nose and everyone was pretty excited about it, so I was mayor." 

"That's kind of how politics used to be, too," she muttered, distancing for a moment. "So, you had a school, a government - any doctors?" 

"Yeah, there was a kid for that," he answered with a shrug, never giving her too much response when she'd ask for his history. 

She considered commenting on it, but he seemed bored and she tightened her lips in thought. "What do you think of Pre-War people from what you've seen?" 

He looked surprised by the question and smirked. "Boss, how honest do you want me to be?" She just nodded and shoved him. "Well, they were petty, obviously. I don't know what coffee is, but I wouldn't pay any price with two zeroes at the end for it." She laughed at a joke only she understood. "Their clothes were stupid - all the women were half-naked and the men were all pinned up in like eight kinds of flaps. Anyone could've taken out a crowd of them with a rifle, honestly. They were just totally vulnerable. TV's seemed cool - I guess like radio with pictures? Seems kind of wasteful to use up so much space on pictures, though." She was grinning and he eyed her, "Did I get it?" 

"Yeah," she laughed. "Civilians were living in a stressful luxury for a few years. It's not like everyone could, but some had robots as houseworkers and nannies and self-cleaning kitchens and stereo systems that could play a record clear as hell." 

"But it wasn't like that everywhere," he echoed. 

"The other half of the world was starving," she admitted. "There's lots of reasons and it was mostly our focus on luxury that caused it, and that's how the Reds turned allies against us. So, I guess, what you see is caused by all of that."

She expected him to say something rude, but his hand swept out and squeezed hers for a moment before returning to his rifle. "Ain't so bad, now." 

She was shut up by the words and saved her thoughts for later, halted by his quick touch. He was a funny person. He'd been a bratty kid, she knew, just from the way he spoke and argued with her with a precision crafted by children. He'd had some kind of guilt that pushed him to a 'clean' life of the beautiful family, just like she had. And just like Vera, he'd had it torn away as though he'd been an idiot for resting on it. They'd both been diligent - working for their spouse to stay straight, doing anything they could to provide a childhood for their sons - and, yet, they were both alone and stuck in a fucking ocean of dust and death. 

RJ had gushed over his son the few times he'd spoken about him. He told cute stories about the boy lighting a fire in the brush and thrashing in his sleep the first night RJ had told him a scary story from a comic. It was sickeningly sweet - she'd known her son for a matter of weeks before he disappeared. RJ had a child. 

She felt the weight of guilt press to her stomach and she grimaced, twisting her head to the horizon at her side. RJ seemed to notice, but she'd dug herself into a mental hole thinking of 'home' and she'd probably have ended up bitchy if he'd asked. 

They neared Lexington, eventually - her least favorite city in life and death, and she noticed he'd listened to her advice on using the sides of his feet to walk silently in terrain, another trick she was glad she'd learned. It made her feel all fucking fluttery when she realized he'd listened to her speaking, though it only served to make her that much more talkative. She had always gone on tangents when she was high, and she was essentially always high, now. RJ had warned her not to get addicted, apparently bothered more by a chems necessity to a person than its use. She got it - addicts wasted. 

Everything had gone right up to that point, and she'd watched him lose the barriers of acquaintanceship to laugh and drink together. Everything else, though, was just RJ. He just sat or bitched or laughed at something new she'd found for him and she wanted to tear apart the neverending prequel of learning about someone to just see inside him and understand why he was so calm and snarky in a world of fucking pain. Even as they walked through Lexington, his expression didn't falter. He was a hired gun - so used to shooting, he'd gone numb to adrenaline. She still felt a thrill when she used a handgun, but she could see in how he checked his scope to see into taller buildings that he was as calm as when they'd been sitting in the gas station. 

She'd been hoping to show-off at least a bit before they reached the city. He'd never even asked about her favorite gun, a modded assault rifle she carried through the straps of her pack. She'd cleared Lexington out long beforehand, sending recon regularly to clear it again if anything moved in. For once, she regretted her planning, and considered an alternate route to take them through hazardous areas.

He smiled suddenly and she shook the thought. "Pretty quiet this way. It's kinda nice - I'm used to a lot more ferals and wildlife." 

She decided that, potentially, he was happier with the calm and praised herself inwardly. "We try to keep it easy for the, uh, workers to get through." 

"You know, when you say it like that, they sound more like slaves than if you just said slaves." He snickered. 

"Well, what the hell are they, then? Unaligned non-deviants?" she snapped, watching the sweet curl of his lips that didn't fade. 

"I'm just saying - you might wanna practice your civilized chatter or they'll pick you out quick in DC." He never had much to say about how she appeared to those outside of her crew, and, honestly, she hadn't spent enough time in any town to have grown accustom to the culture. She'd gone straight from manners and etiquette to a total lack of governing body, and now she had to find the in-between. She pursed her lips. 

"How about 'employees?'" She shook her head. "No, that's fucking stupid."

He put an arm over her shoulder with a teasing shake. "Hey, you'll figure it out." It felt like a fake conversation, one he pressed on just to hear her talk. She let him hold his arm there before he dropped it and started small talk again. "What's our plan, now?" 

"Gotta hang out in front of the Wall and hit up caravans passing through." She huffed in preliminary exhaustion. "Stop by Bunker Hill and do the same. But first," she took a sharp turn, causing RJ to falter, just as they left Lexington's high walls, "there's some fun for me to have. Well, us." 

"The last thing you described as fun was a public execution," he commented warily. She grinned and her cheeks prodded into the metal jaws of her mask. 

"Well, get ready," she laughed. She pressed a finger to her lips as they skirted a building, just inside of Cambridge. Vera snapped her fingers at the dog and ordered him to stay, then pointed to a shattered apartment complex and whispered, "Head there. If the guy makes a move at me, go for the legs." 

RJ could have questioned her, maybe pulled her away and asked her to lay out the plan rather than giving vague instructions, but he was intrigued. Everything turned out odd when she was involved. He just nodded and disappeared from her side, using the ruins to conceal himself until he reached the third level and she saw him lie flat to the ground, watching the interior of the building she leaned against through his scope. 

She was catching herself staring at him more often, and seeing him prepare to snipe made her bite back a smile. She stood and waved two fingers in the air to signal her movement. 

RJ listened as she called out in a smooth, low voice, "Gorge, it's time to play." He furrowed his brow and watched the slight movement inside the building. A man lumbered out, unaware of Vera standing behind him, edged against the building. RJ watched her swing forward like a bird, wrapping an arm behind his throat as she ducked closer, slamming her boot against the backs of his knees. More movement from inside made RJ twitch his triggerfinger, so unaware of the situation that he'd gotten tense. The man fell to his knees and she was quick to release her hold and move in front of him, setting a handgun's muzzle to his forehead. He was blocked from RJ's bullet and he stared into the building, where a woman became visible. How did he know if Vera had planned on more than one target? 

Vera's voice echoed against deterioration as she announced, "Gorge! You've had three weeks, babe." RJ stiffened at the name but shook it away. "And you fucked up. How's your crew feelin'?" 

The woman stepped fully into view inside the threshold of the door with a tight expression. "He doesn't speak for us," she answered quickly for him. Vera tilted her head towards the woman. 

"That so? Who was involved in the settlement hit?" She spoke as though she already knew the answers. 

Gorge tried to reach out, suddenly, throwing himself to his feet. Vera twisted away almost elegantly, and RJ shut an eye to aim. He pulled without thinking, following her instructions, and a bullet tore through the man's thigh, causing him to falter and hit the ground again. RJ saw Vera smile. The woman looked frozen. 

"He was. Gorge took us there, but we saw your guys. He was the only one-" 

"Hey," Vera interrupted smoothly, her free hand raised. "I don't need excuses. Just some time to make it clear who's in charge now." She raised her gun and shot suddenly, blasting the man's shoulder in purposeful torture. He shouted angrily, and she laughed. "My boys learned quick - it just takes some," she shot again, this time into his raised hand, "domination." She stepped back to empty her handgun of its last two bullets into her hand and shook them like dice. "You kids ever heard of roulette?" The woman shook her head, and more movement became visible in the building. Vera had to know there were more, from how she spoke. "It's a game of chance. Some people say it's one out of thirty-seven, but I think it's a fifty-fifty - either you win or you don't. That's how life is out here." She loaded one bullet and spun the chamber with a grin, pressing it again to Gorge's head as he held his demolished hand. "You live," she pulled the trigger and the gun clicked, "or you die." Click. "But sometimes," Click, "you're just waiting for your luck to run out." The gun fired, suddenly, accenting her point so flawlessly that RJ had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. She'd been quoting the Black Baron, the major villain of the Silver Shroud, and she'd done the whole fucking scene word for word. The woman had no idea, obviously, as she gasped when blood hit her and the man slumped lifelessly to the dirt. It wasn't funny, but RJ hadn't expected the sudden acting and he had to rub a hand over his face to focus again. 

Vera looked to the woman suddenly; "Where are the rest?" 

Two men appeared behind the woman, scowling like beaten dogs. Vera chided, "You guys always hide when there's trouble?" 

One stepped forward and RJ tried to wrangle with her vague instructions to decide whether or not to shoot. She aimed her handgun, emptied, at the man and he froze. Vera waved at them to leave the safety of the door and she manhandled them onto their knees. She laughed. 

"You kids don't count bullets, do you?" It was exactly how Black Baron had been caught - he'd played roulette and forgotten to reload, but Vera seemed entirely amused. "So, you guys wanna join up? Stop living like fucking rats and be useful?" 

The same man who'd been mouthy shouted, his neck tensed with rage, "I didn't join this fuckin' crew to have some bitch tell me what to do, so fuck you." He was absolutely frothing, glaring at her from his subordinating position. 

Vera dropped her weapon dramatically and pointed two fingers at the man like a gun, her thumb pulled up. RJ wondered if it was a signal, wishing they'd spent any of the week actually preparing, and decided that she might like him enough to not care if he misread her. 

Her thumb snapped down and she blew air like a shot and a real bullet fragmented his skull from the side. She looked real fucking pleased and RJ felt giddy. It was like radio he could see and it was fucking ridiculous. 

He'd read the Guns N' Bullets comic, a short throw-away in every volume that usually followed some scary guy doing heroic shit, but what she'd done had been from his favorite, The Wrecking Ball, in which snipers lined a rooftop and waited for intricate signals to convince the terrorists that they were magical. She had to have read them in detail to remember it all, and the thought made RJ grin as he imagined acting out every gorey detail. It was insane that he'd gotten two references in one encounter, and he was suddenly hyper-intent on her through his scope. 

Vera cocked a hip and eyed the remaining man. "How 'bout you, muffin? You wanna go home or ride with me?" 

She had to be fucking with RJ. She'd been the one who'd given him so much shit to read, and he knew he'd mentioned reading Grognak as a kid, so she had to know he was paying attention when she quoted the goddamned Harley Harlot, the short-lived 'bad girl' villain, again, from The Silver Shroud. She didn't even have a motorcycle like the character had, and the words' vague danger made it sound much more dangerous. He was going to laugh if she continued. 

The guy had no idea and took her as seriously as she wanted, bowing his head and shaking. "I just fuckin' got here, man - I fuckin' farmed. Please-" 

She barked, "Hey!" He flinched visibly and Vera stepped toward him with her hand on her hip. RJ shifted, weirdly turned on by the idea of her being an Old World villain. "Not a crew out here that'll take ya' if you're pissin' yourself already." She softened quickly. "Farmer, huh? Still any good at it? Pays better than recon." The man shot his head up, disbelief on his face. Before he could ask, she stepped towards the woman, and offered, "You, I like. You're smart, and there aren't enough brains to go around. Kinda shit do you like?" 

The woman probably thought she was being fucked with before getting murdered. RJ had been there a few times, and he'd always been right - and fast. She stuttered a response, "I, uh, I can read," the girl answered in a hastened tone that reminded RJ that this was still real, and these were real people, not long-dead voices over a speaker. "I can- I can shoot." 

Vera made a sound of disappointment. "No, I know you can shoot. Otherwise, you'd be dead." She touched the girl's shoulder, making her flinch. "How's 100 caps per week to lead help some guys kill some guys, and you can live it up in Nuka-World. Anytime we need you to cause some mayhem, we'll pay you double." Her eye flinched, unnoticed by the raiders, but like a flare to him. He focused on the girl - she didn't seem dangerous - her hands were to the ground and she was nearly sobbing from the gore that had built around her. RJ paused - raiders usually were the types to be enamored by carnage, or at least disillusioned. She was on the brink of panic. There could be something up, but she'd noticed it far before he would have. 

Vera leaned down to grab her handgun back, loading it from her pocket, only her jaw displaying the stare from beneath metal. "You can read, right? Where'd you pick that up? Diamond City?" 

The woman seemed thrown off, blinking hard. "I-I was a farmer's kid. I learned how to read - what do you mean?" 

Vera narrowed her eyes. RJ was lost, confused entirely by his boss's reactions. "Where are the others?" 

The girl twitched her eyes at Vera, "Who?"

"The rest of you." She pointed the gun to the woman's head and both froze, staring hard. RJ couldn't move, no idea what she could have been doing, threatening the woman who'd been so interested in surrendering. 

The woman shook her head slowly, ducking her head down, muttering, "I can't." 

Vera pulled the trigger on the last word, making RJ jump from his focus. The man cringed as the woman fell, and RJ felt sick when Vera immediately bent to bust the woman's skull open. She was very much a raider, no matter how many comic books or radio shows she could quote. Her hand dipped into the gore and and she lifted it out with a victorious shout. In her hand, she held some tiny, bloodied shard. 

RJ nearly backed down when she faced him suddenly, a grin on her lips and her hand touched with gruesome death. She shouted to him, "It was a synth! I knew it!" 

RJ faltered, pulling away from his scope to stare down at the mess she'd made around the last raider. She spoke loud enough for him to hear, probably terrifying the farmer kid, "See, I learned that the Institute had a big thing about 'self-preservation.' It all has to do with the terrible, horrible ego. Synths brought to us from the Underground have their heads wiped." She paced slowly over the bodies. "They have basic survival skills and instincts. Synths implanted by the Institute, though, they're taught to self-preserve, by any means, but the ultimate decision is to preserve the Institute. You keep asking them where the rest are, scare them real bad, they'll fuck up. It's human nature."

RJ sighed shortly. Now she was a synth-lover, too -  sort of. He didn't have a problem with it, he just didn't see the point in getting involved. You couldn't just be fine with fake people as long as they didn't shoot you - you had to know all this shit about the Institute and lifespans and all the existential shit no one wanted to talk about. A synth-lover seemed right, now that the characteristic had revealed itself. She was fucking involved in everything she did. Everything was a big deal. Vera cared about everything. 

Vera stomped a foot down with a grin and wiped the bloodied synth chip on her jeans. "Alright, guy - what's your name?" 

He answered shortly, somewhere between shock and acceptance, "John." 

She pulled a coin from the arcade from her pocket and held it out to him. "Go to the Nuka-World Transit Center. This'll get you on board and the voice on the speaker will tell you where to go. Act right, you can be as happy as you want - I've got everything from skinning people who fuck with us to farming fucking potatoes. You good? "She patted him hard on the upper arm. "It's cool. Nothin' to worry about but feeling good, out there." 

He nodded slowly and took the token. RJ was uncomfortable - it looked like the goddamned Holy Grail the way he held it, but he was pretty sure she always carried those tokens around to throw at mouthy raiders. "You're serious? I don't want to go out there and get slaved or something." He was talking like he'd already started accepting death. "I don't know-" 

Vera shut him up with a hand on his shoulder, just like the woman's, but her handgun was holstered. "Look, you wanna be comfortable, don't you? You don't want to work every day until you die, and you want to be allowed to do whatever you want when you want, right? That's why a farmer boy left important shit behind to be a raider. You wanted to have some fun without people nagging at you."

The guy stared at her. "I-I guess. It just gets so fucking boring." 

She smiled. "Go back to your farm and talk to whoever runs it. Get them to join, and you can do anything you want. Like I said, skinning is an option. Lots of chems and weird shit go on." Her tone had changed entirely. She wasn't quoting dramatic lines or trying to scare him. She was recruiting him. 

He seemed to understand and nodded. "Yeah - I can. Okay." 

Vera pointed to the token in his hand. "Hold onto that, or they'll shot you up, okay?" He nodded again and shoved it into an ammo bag on his jeans. She patted his cheek rudely and started to leave. "Tell 'em Overboss sent you. I don't remember your name. Sorry, babe!" 

She turned a corner and RJ kept an eye on the man, John, as he hunched in relief, three dead bodies circled around him. It looked like a massacre. He finally stood and walked into the building, just as thin fingers wrapped RJ's sides and made him lunge sideways, twisting to aim. Vera stood proudly, her arms crossed, and he sighed. "What the fu- uh, damn." 

Vera chuckled and crouched beside him, seeming to look toward the bodies. "Fun, right? He seems nice." 

RJ let his fall fall to the floor, tipping his hat upward. "What was all that? You're playing Silver Shroud with real people and picking out synths, now?" 

She smirked like she'd been caught. "I was hoping you'd catch those. Really scared the tits off that kid - one guy gets his head blown up but a hand and the other's a synth - shit. He's just a fucking farm kid." 

Duncan was a farm kid - it was a comfortable but hardworking life, but it was never as bad as trying to find your place in a town with no skills or just scavving. That was why RJ had decided on having a farm - it was the smart choice. 

She seemed to notice his distant look and nudged him. "Hey, don't stress. We're having fun. You did real good, RJ. Everything was perfect." 

He looked away and asked, "How are you always sure of this stuff? What if you fuck up and kill someone you shouldn't have? It's a fu-messed up guilt." 

She answered too quickly, "Repetition. It's all repetition. I can explain it later if you're really fuckin' interested, but things are much more controlled than they seem. Jobs aren't hard when you divide everything up and let people choose, and some people are willing to do something they're good at or don't hate for more money. Most raiders just get caught up in the pure hedonism shit, but a lot of them are still just people. We all murder. Anyway," she sat down, rubbing her thighs, "that bitch, Gorge, he killed one of my settlement's Brahmin as a warning after I explicitly told them to stay away from my shit. Raiders respect few things, but one is territory. The extra guy, he was a vet. He's been so fucked up and killed so many people - he was long gone. Only good one left was Joe once I realized the bitch was being weird. Raiders can't do that shit - you wanna cry and heave, you better die."

"His name was John - like Hancock." RJ paused. "Well," he challenged, "what if their gang doesn't follow the same rules as yours?"

She stopped rubbing her legs and turned her hidden face to the sky. "Everything is identical, whether it's how people think or act. History repeats itself forever because it's people's herd-logic repeating itself. You wanna do chems but your parents beat you and starve you for doing it - you leave and try to act tough so you can do all the fucking chems you want and no one cares. You gotta act tough when you head out, so you make yourself see the gore and the mayhem they might cause. You do it over and over because you're in a routine, now, feeling good all the time, and you start getting disillusioned by the violence. Happens to mercs and soldiers, too - see it enough, and it isn't even scary anymore. Then they get real fucked up and either kill themselves by fighting enough or murdering just to feel. I don't want vets. I want people with some shreds of humanity left. They need to want something to do anything, and psychos want for nothing."

He gave her a small smile. "That's a lot of words, boss." 

She winked as she rose; "And never hesitate." She left back down the concrete stairs, leaving him with the molding furniture and single skeleton bent against the corner. RJ looked up, the sky entirely open as the top half of the building lay scattered in the debris. She could still be a synth. In fact, he'd heard of Coursers that killed synth runaways, but a weird, bald guy had said it, so he wasn't sure if they existed. She could also be some weird Vault experiment - the Capital Wastes had bared some weird fruit and he could entirely believe Vera being some messenger of a Pre-War-Bullshit raid and she'd have them all drinking coffee and shitting in their houses within the year. He had to relax - she'd just paid attention, like the annoying kid that always ended up replacing the teacher in Lamplight. Maybe he was just stupid and didn't see the little signals people sent her. Whatever it was made her sure enough to dig into a woman's brain like the can of dog food she'd threatened him with. 

When he finally followed her to the ground level, she was smoking and watching the guy leave his dead friends. She asked in a low voice, "You fucked up? Did I rattle the cage too hard?" She was earnestly asking, but she still sounded patronizing. 

RJ rolled his eyes at her. "I think I've seen enough shit through this scope, alone, to not get fucked up anymore." She smirked and tilted her chin, pressing past him to find where she'd told Gnarly to stay behind. 

He really wasn't bothered by the death - he was a damn mercenary - it was just how she seemed to have a reason or excuse for any little thing she did, and it made him anxious. She could be controlling him and he'd have no idea, just rutting behind her while she took over the Commonwealth. 

He sighed and followed; it was too easy to piss himself off when he thought about women. Lucy had been perfect, and any other woman before or after her - excluding his boss, potentially, had been after something. When he was a kid, girls loved chatting up the mayor about all the things they'd watched him doing. After Lucy, it had just been people passing through or squatting in Goodneighbor and he hadn't given any of them too much thought - they just wanted sex. It was easy like that; that's why it had torn him up when he lost her. Lucy had been a dream that loved him for making her laugh and smile. Now, he just tried to figure out partners' endgames to decide on how drunk to get. It probably wasn't healthy. 

Vera was already hugging the dog when RJ turned down the alleyway. She stood and punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Still good?" 

"Yeah. Why are you so worried about it?" 

She shrugged. "Because you've got all these emotions and shit, so I have to make sure I don't scare you off. Maybe your best friend died playing roulette - how the fuck am I supposed to know?" 

He scoffed; "Since when does a raider give a crap about emotions?" He was smiling, but she pretended not to notice. 

Vera push her face close to his. "Since you turned raider-by-association." She pecked the corner of his mouth before turning on her heel to leave, muttering half-heartedly, "dickhead." 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Vera wasn't like Lucy. She didn't smile at the stars or sigh a little when she laid down. She didn't tiptoe in that exaggerated, cute way when he was reading like Lucy had, nor did she shy away from guns. Lucy had been his rock - she'd always been there to make things seem unreal and sweet like the old posters of happy families. She'd tried to make him dance, she'd get slurred and silly after two beers, and she'd break the monotony of life with genuine smiles and laughter.  
Vera wasn't like her, really, in any way. He doubted they'd had even liked each other. Vera liked chems, money, and her dog. She wasn't there to make his life suddenly seem peaceful when he was tired of it all - but she still made it better. It was a different feeling than Lucy had caused - that fluttering, happy rush of protection and comfort; being around Vera made him remember working on contracts with other Gunners, when he'd bullshit and use cars for target practice. She reminded him of the real world - fucked up, but fun.  
She was a friend, more than anything, but he knew there was more than just 'caring' about him to how she'd started acting. They didn't seem to be talking about it, though.  
More than anything, he couldn't let himself drop his guard to finally see her in that light. His son was still far away, possibly sick or worse, and he still had three weeks to hear back. Until then, anything taking his attention from Duncan seemed immoral, like he'd be cursing his son by finally opening up again. They'd fucked, but everyone fucked. Goodneighbor's mayor and RJ even had some former partners in common. It was hard to say if it meant anything. Usually, there was flirting then they fucked and everyone moved on - tying yourself down in a dangerous place was stupid because they saw what it did to him. He'd ended up shooting down empty alleys in the middle of the night, enraged and drunk, wishing he could go back in time and somehow fix everything he'd fucked up.  
Vera changed something in how he saw the world. The black nights seemed less deadly and liquor hit harder - she made him feel powerful just for existing beside her yet turned into an anxious mess when he touched her. It was just different, and he was kept from defining any of it because he still needed proof. He needed Duncan to be okay. 

Vera was leading RJ to the amphitheater while he lagged behind and touched lightly at Gnarly's back. The Disciple had told her that guards would be there, and she wanted to make a point to check. She was always on top of her men, breaking them into following rules despite how contrary it was.  
She didn't look happy when she turned the corner to Hangman's Alley and the theater came into view. RJ followed up to her casually, peering over the corner of the building. The two men he'd met before, Ricky and someone else, were outside, backs to the door, while a raider stood speaking to them. Every other raider in the area kept their eyes averted, pretending to guard the place. Vera shouldered off her bag and tossed it to him, disappearing into a sprint before he could complain.  
Gnarly followed and RJ was left to drag himself there, disinterested in her too-common raider problems. He was busy trying to figure out how he felt about her comic book references and pierced breasts and chastised himself for being the kind of person he'd promised not to be. He wanted to be good and shit. He wanted to have a real life and be happy and everything would be normal and no one would have to lie or hide anything.  
When he crossed the bridge, finally, Vera already stood close to the raider who'd cornered the men. Her face was inches from his mask, a burlap sack with torn eye holes, and she hissed, "What the fuck do you think you're doing? I give you free shit to do nothing, and you think I fucking owe you something?"  
RJ's lip twitched as the man pushed an arm out, hitting her on the shoulder. She looked scathed. "I ain't some fuckin' house pet, bitch - I don't roll over just so you can be queen. Fuck you." Vera's fist smashed into his cheek and he threw his arms out, expecting her. His hands, coated in blackened dirt, clung to her small forearm and he laughed shortly.  
RJ started forward but she shouted at him not to move. She was 'showing dominance,' he knew, but he didn't want to find out how she reacted to broken bones.  
Vera was quick to fake the raider out, throwing her other arm out before jerking it back when he flinched so she could tear her captured arm free. She twisted back and kicked, shoving her foot into the rider's stomach with no real success.  
The man grunted and grabbed her leg, pulling her off-balance, and he was on top of her in moments, ripping her mask away to raise his fist. RJ had to move - no matter what she said, she couldn't brawl after a full day of walking.  
Vera moved like a demon. She bucked hard, pushing the man further onto her stomach, and bowed hard to reach her legs to his head. She caught his temples between her calves and yanked him down, throwing him off-balance for long enough to smash his head into the dirt when she laid flat.  
She scurried from beneath him as he rolled over to stand up. His head had caught a rock and blood had already begun pooling over his scalp. Vera was bare, entirely without her metal safety, and the new face paint she wore gleamed in the sunlight. He'd asked her why she wore it underneath - she'd said something about protecting her eyes, but he hadn't caught it. She always had a story for everything, so he'd end up losing the point and just listening.  
Vera clenched her fists to her side and glared at the raider. "You go the fuck back where you came from, meat."  
He spread his arms in defiance and took a step towards her. "Or what? You gonna feed me to whatever freak you're storin' in there?"  
She scoffed. "You're so fucking stupid. It's not your fault, but it's still fucking annoying." She'd grabbed her gun while he was focused on displaying himself, and she pointed it towards him. The other raiders kept their backs to the commotion, but RJ couldn't look away.  
It happened too fast for RJ to focus on details. All he knew was that the man had reached to his back, pulling something from his waist, and took one-too-many steps towards Vera. RJ had to act - his only job was being a bodyguard, and, no matter what Vera commanded, that was the bottom line. He shot as soon as he could flip his rifle from his shoulder to his hands, hardly aiming for the close range, and the man's burlap mask puffed into a bloodied mess. Vera froze, her handgun still aimed, as the body fell to its knees and hit the dirt by her feet. She glanced at RJ for only a moment before the other raiders finally looked. One bullet meant it must be over.  
She lowered her gun and took a breath. "All of you - go back to wherever you fucking came from. You'll get paid. Just," she motioned with her gun towards the ruins surrounding them all, "go." She turned and faced the door to where Trish and her family stayed, still guarded by Ricky and his brother.  
Vera was quiet for too long and the men went inside while the raiders bitched and dispersed. RJ kept his distance, trying to gauge whether she was pissed or not. Gnarly padded towards her, nudging her free hand weakly. It was sometimes disturbing how well her dog seemed to know her, even better than RJ. Her smile broke out like sunlight and she kneeled down to rub her face into the dog's neck. He bounced against her excitedly and RJ cracked his knuckles trying to relax. No matter how much he learned about her, there were just things that hadn't come up, like his position in a fight - raider hierarchy was based on individual skill and value, not the people they kept with them. The other raiders had kept turned away; maybe they knew she'd end up having to clear the place to keep anyone from spreading rumors that the Overboss was caught looking weak.  
She'd kept the gun raised in her hand to imply that she'd been the one to shoot - it was on her authority, and dominance was her only real power over them. RJ had to take in a thousand different possibilities when she got violent, rather than just killing what appeared hostile. She was tedious, but endearing in it - despite her bloodlust, she legitimately believed her intentions were pure. She had to 'play by the rules' with anyone she spoke to by dropping her voice and threatening death the moment someone tried at her nerves - but RJ knew the real her that heard babies crying in her sleep and cooked for her dog. She was an actress like the women on the radio shows that swept between sweet and evil characters.  
Vera finally pulled away from the dog to walk towards RJ with a casual swagger. She stood at his side, faced behind him, and she growled, "Thank you - but don't do that again."  
She moved to leave but RJ snuck an arm around her waist. "It's my job, boss. Couldn't risk it."  
She pushed his arm away like someone would see. "It's riskier to let them see that shit. I gotta cover my own ass - that's literally how I replaced Colter. He couldn't protect his ass in a real fight, so it's kind of the fucking rule now."  
He shrugged, knowing she was scathed by his attitude, but there was still a feeling of friendliness beneath it. "You just gotta be more careful, boss. Sorry."  
She gave him a small smirk and pressed her hand to his chest. "You're lucky you're funny, motherfucker," she muttered through her smile. "Get inside. We need to figure out what to do with them."  
He nodded and left her side, snapping at Gnarly to follow - he was surprised when the dog actually obeyed. Vera stayed where she stood, either surveying the area or negotiating his murder with herself. 

Vera had nearly lost control of the family's hiding place because she'd been so desparately to fulfill her promise to them. It was obvious that raiders absorbed into the crew from the Commonwealth needed some kind of psychological test before they could work, the same way she'd invited the kid, John. She'd needed numbers, but it nearly cost her the family, her life, her position, or a full team of raiders who knew too much. As it stood, she was still reputable, so she considered letting herself feel comforted by RJ's reaction. He'd killed the raider just as she noticed the man going for a weapon hidden on his back. He'd been so focused the entire time and she was why - that had been the glamor of having a bodyguard when she was in school. She'd wanted to know a person was watching everyone and everything around her to keep her safe. With RJ doing the guarding, though, and the turbulent conditions of every conversation she had, there was a different feeling of safety than being an unarmed official like she'd planned.  
She followed them into the building after a calming cigarette. RJ was a fucking vision, sitting on the floor where the toddlers, Scott and Tina, slapped at his hands and giggled at pulling his sleeves. It almost made her queasy seeing people fawn over children, but she never got a chance to get used to the feeling of having her own kid, and assumed it had to be a talent learned over time. Children made her nervous, generally, but the few she cared about had grown on her. She didn't spend time getting to know the kids, but she could buy them shit they liked and make them smile.  
Trish sat at the edge of her bed, touching her belly thoughtfully. They were all just waiting.  
Jack's happy greeting pulled her from watching and she sighed. "Guys. I'm going to have to move you to Diamond City. I know you didn't want to go, but-"  
Ricky interrupted - "They kicked out our parents. No way."  
She twisted her fingers into the wrap around her neck. "There's no other choice. We can't trust people out here to guard you."  
"Didn't you say you were payin' 'em? What's the problem?" the other man asked.  
"They always want more and I'm not playing hostage with you all," she muttered. The men's parents were ghouls that had adopted them, and both had apparently died a few years back because of the mayor. There wasn't any other option that she saw - Trish needed a midwife, at the very fucking least, and the sounds of birth were like alarms to predators. "We should do it now, before Trish gets any closer to giving birth," her monotone broke and she started speakly quickly, "I know it's the worst fucking time for this, but the situation is as it is. We need to go."  
Trish was already using Jack's arm to stand straight, but the men hesitated. Vera directed the boy to help shove objects into bags and RJ was left sitting awkwardly with the toddlers. She smiled shortly at him before turning to the men again. "We can do something about the mayor. Blood for blood, right?"  
Ricky rolled his eyes but followed his wife in packing away toys and clothing. It didn't take long, and Vera had to plan their walk. Ricky was helping his wife walk while saddled with a duffle bag, and his brother or Jack carried the rest. Vera looked to RJ with her eyes rows raised. "You got a kid, so we'll split the last of the cargo." She swept down to pick up Tina, the slobbering and happy child chewing a finger, and Scott pushed a small hand at RJ.  
"What, don't want me carryin' you?" He asked with a grin. Scott stared with big eyes and shook his head. Vera rolled her eyes, hardly able to stand cute shit like that without wanting to scream, and sat Tina on her waist, taking the lead to open the door to their hiding place and lead the family out.  
It was a quiet walk to the bridge and towards Diamond City. The area was still dead from the raider guards moving in, and Vera was thankful for the endless luck she'd had been having. When she would glance back to check on Trish's speed, she'd see Scott waving his hands towards RJ's face like he was fighting, but RJ was smiling at him despite it. Vera didn't entirely get it, but she accepted it as a 'good person' characteristic and twirled a curl on Tina's head as the girl stayed pleasantly quiet. Diamond City guards came into view, cleaning up after a super mutant attack, and she breathed in relief.  
Some problems, it seemed, were just best to fix with money. She knew there were at least two empty homes in the town, and she'd pay whatever they wanted to just know that the family was inside the Wall. With no forms of communication, she'd had nightmares about finding the family's corpses following a random animal attack. It had left her shaken despite the beautiful gore she'd been creating herself.  
Outside the gate, caravaners chatted and a DC guard watched them approach. "This ain't a refuge, you know," he muttered. Vera tensed at him and Tina touched her tiny palm to the metal mask.  
"We're buyin' a house, shit head," she growled back.  
He scoffed and hit the intercom to order the gate open. "I find any of you on a bench too long, you're out of here."  
She rolled her eyes and ducked beneath the gate with the child pressed almost defensively in her arms. She shouted back, careful to avoid the toddler's ears, "Meet me at the Noodle thing." 

Vera left RJ with the handsy boy and the quiet family. Jack was looking around with big eyes and RJ couldn't help but imagine Duncan having that reaction one day. Vera was only gone for minutes before she returned with the little girl on her hip and a key in her hand. It was an odd situation, so he distracted himself by watching the toddler in his arms while she spoke to the family.  
This was the third side of her he knew - it was the same sweet savior type like the former slaves knew. It still wasn't her, though. She didn't curse around the kids and kept shifting the girl on her hip like she was uncomfortable. RJ followed when she turned to take the family to the building yards away, shoved between businesses. He didn't focus on anything but his boss as they set the kids down in the home and she told Ricky to buy the shit they needed with the emergency caps she'd left with him. RJ would've given a limb to meet someone like her when he was traveling with Lucy - maybe they would've been safe.  
As he shut the door behind him, Vera was sighing heavily and cracked her neck. "Fuck me - I need a drink."  
RJ grabbed her by the waist and grinned. "I can help with both." She pressed her side to his and laughed softly.  
"You can do three in a day?" She challenged.  
"Anything for you, boss," he cooed before laughing at the fist punching lightly at his side. 

"This place is disgusting during the day," RJ muttered, tipping his beer bottle lightly. "Everyone's sweating and the meat smells like sh- trash. I could never live here."  
Vera cocked her head towards him, mask glinting under the Dug Out fluorescents. "Everything smells like shit out here. But you don't know odor until you smell the Pack mid-day."  
RJ feigned confusion, bringing his beer to his lips. "Seems like you like smelling people, boss." He didn't know if she'd catch it, but the way she tapped her nails to the counter and watched him drink made him expect a slap. Who even smells a guy's dick while they're blowing him? Not that he didn't like it.  
She just smiled poisonously. "Only two, fuckin' pervert. The rest push their smells onto me."  
He snickered. "Just don't go near my ass like Gnarly."  
She bristled and caught his shirt to pull him close. He took in the little scratches and matted metal as she hissed, "I'll go wherever I fuckin' want, so keep your voice down - I got a reputation here."  
She let him go and turned back to her shots and RJ's light buzz wanted to see how embrassed she could get. She was chasing something with a Nuka-Cola when RJ reached out and brushed his finger across the top of her breasts as though he was dusting them off. "Got some, uh, dirt on you, boss."  
Her jaw tightened and she whispered, "I already agreed, you-" she bit back whatever she'd wanted to call him and he smirked. "Do not make these people think I just run around fucking."  
She was serious, but RJ knew it didn't matter. She took some things too seriously, like flirting openly in a bar - it was fun. He didn't know what he was doing, exactly, but it was just that - fun. No matter how deadly she got, she had a smile for Gnarly and RJ, and he could tell that she wasn't willing to send his ass back because she was having just as much fun reenacting comics and bitching when he'd tease her.  
"Everyone knows it isn't the 'only' thing," he argued. "But I'm sure they wouldn't be surprised that you do. Just look at you."  
She punched his arm and he nearly choked on his drink. "Fuck does that mean?"  
He smirked and looked at the counter. "You don't wear raider shit and hide that face unless you know you're gorgeous." He barely missed biting back the word his tipsy mouth had chosen. "I've never been turned on by a stomach, but," he raised his eyebrows and glanced at the small expanse of skin revealed above her jeans, "there it is."  
She moved close to keep their words private. "Are you saying I dress like a slut? Holy fuck, RJ-"  
He interrupted her with a short burst of laughter. "No, boss - I mean you got stuff to show off and you don't hide it under a bunch of armor. You have to be aware that you're sexy, and everyone else probably assumes you don't have any trouble with dry spells." He laughed again. "It's crazy that you can kill without any worries, but sex is totally too scandalous for you to be caught doing."  
She sat back and he caught her turning a soft pink. "I wouldn't touch another man or woman on this planet."  
His grin wavered. "What?"  
"You're the only person I've been attracted to at all out here. Everyone's so small-minded and boring. You're fun and you get me." She spoked casually, not seeming to realize what she was saying. RJ couldn't remember any kind of words they'd shared that would have implied they'd be loyal to each other, but she was essentially announcing it. Thankfully, she continued before RJ had to respond. "Don't worry about me getting clingy or anything. I'm down for whatever - I just figure it's worth mentioning that I'm not a slut."  
He snorted and rubbed his eyes. "I didn't think you were!"  
She lolled her head and sighed. "You're a slut. I can tell."  
RJ gaped at her. "What the fu- what's that supposed to mean?"  
She pursed her lips and sipped her soda. "You knew what you were doing. Nate wasn't even that quick with his hands." He could tell she was losing her filter, now. The liquor she'd been pounding edged her voice and she was nearly beyond whispering.  
"You've never been with anyone else?" he asked lowly, suddenly concerned.  
"Well, in high school, yes, but it doesn't mean much. It was always weird or awful. I've only been out here for a few months, and I was literally married up to that point."  
He wasn't sure what she was trying to argue, now. Did she think he was gross for spending a few nights not being alone? His stomach twisted and he stared at her hard. "What're you lookin' for here, boss? If it's regret or something, you really don't need to worry so much. I can be professional."  
He half-expected her to make a joke about professionalism, but she set her jaw and seemed to look around the bar. Her fingers slipped beneath her mask and she yanked it away along with the wrap and her hair fell to her bared neck. He watched her for a moment as she tried to scrub her face with the cloth, smearing black paint onto it while she tried to contain the mess. Finally, she dropped it to the ground beside Gnarly, who jumped in his sleep, and her lightly-stained skin gleamed as she faced him.  
She hadn't taken the paint off before - it had just faded from wear until she covered it again. Now, she appeared much more like the woman he'd seen in the photo. Her eyes weren't glowing orbs in darkness and her cheeks had definition when she spoke. It was like he was meeting her newest face.  
"RJ, I used to talk a lot. A lot more, I mean. I knew shit back in the day - I had opinions on everything. Now, every fucking time I talk to someone, I either get them so tied up in confusion bullshit or end up getting chastised for being ungrateful. I told this guy, months ago, that I hated the way Nuka-Cola tasted warm. He was so fucking offended - he goes off about how he shouldn't have even sold it to me if I was just going to bitch." Vera blinked hard, a sweet face of drunkenness holding his gaze. "Anyway, things were easier to talk about back then because everyone knew what not to talk about, you know, so I could say 'I didn't sleep well, but I dreamt about my boyfriend' and, there, they'd understand that I fucked him. I've got to be so fucking blunt here, and it's so hard to just let go of all the filters and shit you learn. We couldn't just talk about shit like this without people spreading rumors about you being an idiot or loose."  
RJ bit his cheek. "I did the opposite. I grew up cursing and pissing on fences, and now I have to be 'professional' and shi- whatever." He wasn't sure he could help, but hoped she was working it out herself by ranting.  
"So, no one cares out here," she stated cautiously. "About sex. They just let it happen all over the place and talk about it the next day?" She was staring intently and RJ had to laugh at how serious she was.  
"Well, people don't want to see it, but it's not like you'll get arrested for mentioning it. You're not going to lose points for fucking, Overboss." The name made him smirk. "If anything, I'd think the raiders would love the idea of a fuck buddy on a leash." He knew he let the curse slip, but he couldn't bring himself to correct it.  
She turned red, far more skin visible, now, and it was even more rewarding. She hissed, "I haven't said it was okay to do, yet, asshole. Look, I just have this really strong impression that women who have sex and don't shut the fuck up about it are stupid little things that just want more and die of, I don't know, Dickrot."  
"You don't die from that," he added quickly and she rubbed her eyes. "But that's fuckin' stupid-I mean it's just stupid. Damn."  
"You already said 'fuck,' like three times," she snapped.  
He grit back real annoyance and reminded himself he'd asked for the retort by getting her frazzled. "I don't know anything about cultures and whatever, but it seems stupid that everyone's favorite thing to do would be bad for you to do. You do everything else - drinking, smoking, chems, killing - so why would sex be the one thing you couldn't do without judgment?"  
She considered him thoughtfully, seeming to process what he'd said. "My whole adult life is a result of me being judged for it." He furrowed his brow and watched her tap her fingers on the counter. "You have no idea how pissed off I am, honestly. I had to leave school, I had to be homeless, and I had to join the Army because my parents found out I fucked a guy." RJ didn't know what to say. It wasn't unheard of for people to be judged for who they fucked, but not just doing it, generally. "And you're telling me it's okay, now, to just talk about fucking in public." Her voice was getting louder and RJ knew she'd be unhappy in the morning if he let her start screaming about sex in the bar.  
He'd known there was something weird about her - she could have made a move the first night and he probably would've taken it. He'd done if before with bosses or their partners that were looking for a quick night. She was ridiculous - all of her actions and notions made her seem so two-faced against herself. She knew damn well the raiders and scavvers were fucking, and she had to know that RJ wasn't any different from the people he'd grown up with.  
He stepped up, careful of Gnarly's deadweight along the floor, and wrapped an arm at Vera's waist. She slid off the stool without argument and he led her past Yefim, who seemed almost gleeful at what he'd seen. RJ nearly dragged her to the room she'd rented them and Gnarly followed along happily while Vera was chewing her lip in silence. Once RJ closed the door, she landed into the armchair and stared hard at him. "I'm sorry."  
He took his boots off and threw them to the floor in exhaustion. He hadn't realized how much the walk had taken out of him until he saw the bed. "For what? Being a Pre-War weirdo?" He grinned teasingly at her but she didn't react.  
She was slurring, actually drunk for once. "It's gotta be so fuckin' hard to have all this sad shit going on and I'm here just throwing money at people and-" she stopped short and changed topics suddenly. "I've killed so many people since I came out here. Most of them weren't even fighting me, RJ. That's insane and Nate would've left me so long ago. I barely know myself anymore." She wiped a hand down her smudged face and he saw the look of a drunk confession in her movements. "It's so weird, now - all I want to do is make you laugh and give you everything I have. I don't even care if you give me anything back - you're so fucking _good_ and I can't stand knowing you've had so much bullshit come your way."  
RJ was thrown off for a moment. "Wh- _good_? I'm a mercenary, I left my kid hundreds of miles away, and now I'm running with raiders. How the hell is any of that good?"  
She smiled at a joke he didn't catch and murmured, "You've got this sweet heart you wanna prove to people. You're always doing so fucking much to the right thing, and that shit's never black and white. You didn't trust me till I showed off my good deeds and now you're waiting so fucking patiently for word on your son. That's so," she groaned loudly and threw her head back, " _cute_. I wish I could be like you."  
RJ laughed and threw his duster to the ground, throwing himself onto the bed. She was too far gone to fuck or listen to - she was just babbling, now, and probably had no idea what she was saying. She was quiet while he got comfortable and folded his arms behind his head. Gnarly circled under the bed like always, and the conversation seemed to hit a stopping point. He could feel her eyes on him.  
There was a silence before RJ sighed. "Just go to bed, boss. You're tanked."  
She sounded annoyed. "Vera when we're alone, remember?" He grunted. "I'm not so fucked up that I don't mean it. You're so goddamn endearing, it makes me wanna shake you."  
He was already drifting, too tired to try to work through drunk feelings. "Go to bed, Vera."  
He heard her laugh before the mattress jerked beneath her weight and she fell beside him, pressed to the wall. She whispered his name a few times before her voice disappeared and he heard her breath even as she fell asleep.  
Finally, he looked at her, taking in the details of her face that she'd kept hidden. She was entirely relaxed, no hint of the anger she seemed to exude every day. It was almost unnatural how human even raiders became when they slept. He'd killed a few that way and it has always been a jarring how familiar people looked sleeping. He still didn't know if she counted as a raider - there were too many juxtaposing characteristics that made her Vera that she didn't fit any label he knew. He was supposed to be a good guy - that was the goal - so, working for a raider just, in itself, took him several steps back to 'shitty guy.' 

RJ woke to a straining feeling, followed by a flat palm against his cock. He blinked hard awake and his eyes shot down to Vera's, where she hovered her mouth above his crotch. "Oh, you're a real light sleeper," she mused, pressing her lips against him. He was usually the first awake, and had always been able to slip away to deal with morning wood, but now she had his overly-hard dick on her fingers as she shoved her hand into his pants to tease him.  
RJ groaned in a mixture of grogginess and surprise. He wasn't going to question anything - as far as he was concerned, she was deprived and he was available. That's all they needed to be.  
Vera undid his pants and forced him to lift up as she yanked them down. He hit the fresh air with a jolt and she was quick to crawl up over him, hovering her heat so close RJ was tempted to pull her downward. She had a gleam in her eye that suggested she had different intentions.  
RJ bit his lip and she watched him closely, her eyes dark. "You asked me what I meant by weird. Wanna see?"  
His cock twitched beneath her, grazing her glistening skin. She was already for wet for him and he hadn't moved. RJ nodded and pulled her head down for a deep kiss, her tongue moving as though she was trying to reassure him. She was still fucking nervous.  
She sat back, suddenly, pressing his erection against his stomach beneath her. She unraveled the cloth shirt she wore and lifted his head to tie it tightly around his eyes. RJ inhaled a bit too fast and she noticed, lying his head back. She asked softly, "Do you trust me enough for this? I can stop."  
He covered up the insecurity of being blinded with a smirk and admitted, "I've never been blindfolded by someone who didn't wanna fuck me up." She hesitated dangerously long and RJ shook his head. "Don't get any ideas - you can't kill a man like this, Vera. It ain't right."  
She giggled lightly and leaned forward again, brushing her lips against his ear; "No killing, but the next part might be a little stressful. Just say stop if you want to." She didn't wait for a response before she lifted and pulled his side to roll him over, causing RJ to fight back in spite.  
"I can move myself," he huffed. Vera pressed her fingers through the hair on the back of his head before gripping hard.  
"Not for long, sweetheart." She spun around and mounted his back facing his legs and pinned his arms to his sides.  
"Am I supposed to fight back?" he asked shortly, chest pressed to the mattress by her ass. She lifted to grab the tails of his blindfold, just one long strip of cloth, and he realized too late that she was tying his wrists together with it. RJ started to buck but she yanked the cloth tightly and his head stretched back, causing him to moan. He was surprised that he did, considering how stressful the situation could have been, but it was Vera. She wouldn't waste so much time and energy on tricking him. Hopefully.  
She laughed breathily at his sound and loosened the hold, letting him lay flat. "Oh, I'll remember that for next time." She disappeared from above him and he was pulled sideways again, landing on his back. He made a face, unsure where she was, and muttered, "I'll be honest, I'm insanely uncomfortable, boss." She was right by his ear and laughed, making him jump. He was cursing in his head already, and it threatened to break out. She was just fucking with him and he was way out of his comfort zone.  
Vera's fingers appeared on his chest and he inhaled shortly again. He had never in his life purposefully covered his eyes, but he'd never expected to feel quite so vulnerable. With his hands tied, she could gut him and disappear without a struggle. RJ was getting nervous and wanted out from beneath the blindfold, but he couldn't bring himself to stop her. He didn't have a reason to distrust her.  
Her touch moved down his abdomen and skirted around his cock, brushing lightly enough to make him shiver. Vera moved close to his ear again and he could feel the cool metal in her breasts glide across his arm. "You okay?" She danced a finger up the underside of his cock and he bowed back from the sensation.  
"Man. It's pretty scary not knowing what someone's doing," he offered lamely. Suddenly light hit his eyes and RJ winced, turning his head away. She'd pulled the cloth away the moment he'd finished talking.  
"We'll work up to that." Vera let his eyes adjust while she stood at the side of the bed, naked and watching him like a predator. "You good?"  
RJ didn't know, exactly, how to respond. He had some experience with being 'rough,' but he'd always been the rough one. He was totally at her mercy and his erection wasn't fading. He just nodded and stared hard at her. "Come on, boss. Show me weird."  
She grinned and her eyes moved to his cock, viciously hard from her intermittent teasing. She trailed her fingers up and down his skin, a smile perking on her lips when she'd make him twitch. RJ watched her stick her fingers into her mouth before gliding them across his perineum and down to his balls. She spoke low like she was warning him, "I want you needy, RJ. I want you to beg for me."  
She was on top of him in a moment, nails dragging down his chest. He arched against her and she growled, leaning forward to bite at his throat. RJ groaned and thrust against the wetness sliding across his dick, but she refused to let him move. He forced a scoff and gritted, "You can't resist me, boss. You'll be begging for me."  
She laughed against his skin and her fingers found his jaw, pressing his head back to let her suck hard at the skin. She was marking him, above anything a collar could hide, and he wondered if she really did decide to let everyone know they were fucking.  
The piercings in her breast pressed to his chest and she rolled her ass back, arching to drag her cunt along his hardness. He groaned again and tried to think of a way to out-do her. Before he could, she swept back and grabbed something she'd left out of sight, beside the bed. His stomach flipped and he imagined how bad he'd look with his dick out when he they'd find his body. He relaxed when she lifted a small bowl, but he furrowed his brow in confusion. She ignored him and dipped her fingers into it before her hand disappeared behind her back and her hips swayed like she was fucking herself.  
She bit her lip and watched him while she used the same hand to coat his dick in whatever it was. The liquid was cold and viscous and made him sniff in surprise at the touch. "This is pretty weird, yeah," he forced himself to murmer. When she was satisfied, she set the bowl down and sat up on her knees over him, her fingers tight around his base.  
She smirked. "Promise you'll like it."  
Vera pressed her hips down and he felt a giving heat that definitely was not the welcoming slip of her cunt. RJ nearly spoke, but he was cut off by the feeling of his head slipping past rings of muscle that tightened around him so fucking deliciously he nearly choked. Her grin was absolutely wicked as she watched him gasp.  
"Beg for me, RJ," she whispered, rotating her hips to grind her muscles around him. He wanted to badly to push her down or lift into the intense tightness.  
"F-fuck," he grunted, twisting beneath her as he tried not to move. He gripped hard at the cloth around his wrists, trying to find give. The knot was too difficult and her hips revolving had his toes curling. He caught her eyes and she moaned - he gave in. "Fine - _please_ , Vera."  
She began easing herself down, but her eyes didn't leave his, and she stopped halfway deep. She was stretched so tightly around him, RJ was clawing his fingers into his own back and he could feel himself throbbing inside her. "You can do better."  
RJ's hip twitched and he felt her insides flex at the movement. He threw his head back in defeat. "Please, please, fucking please, Vera - I can't-"  
She stopped him with a jerk of her hips, settling him into herself with a gasp. She cringed and he nearly shouted, moaning into the mattress loudly as he twisted his head to the side. He never would have even asked a woman to let him fuck her ass. It wasn't even a thought - but it was fucking insane. Whatever she'd rubbed onto him made him slide so effortlessly despite the grip that made his balls ache.  
She lifted slowly, watching him bite his lip to keep from making noise, before thrusting herself down and taking him in fully again. RJ growled and she started rocking her hips, causing friction so unbearable, he had to try to push his orgasm from his mind. Vera was intent, though, and snaked a hand up his chest.  
"Cum in me, baby," she demanded, her fingers wrapped at his jaw to bare his throat. Her other hand covered his eyes, suddenly, and she lifted herself fully to start fucking herself. RJ couldn't take the muscles pulling so viciously at his cock and he felt a tremor through his spine as he tried to stave off his orgasm.  
He couldn't - he was too hard and she was too tight. He finally let the strangled moan escape him as he stared into the darkness of her palm, nothing to focus on but her movements as she rode him through it. His legs twitched involuntarily as he came, and she somehow tightened herself harder, tearing another moan from his throat before she settled. She moved her hand and he stared up at her while he panted, the effort of trying to make it last having caused him to hold his breath.  
She was grinning victorious as she pulled him from her unceremoniously and twisted off the bed to begin dressing. RJ laid totally still, staring at the ceiling as his heart slowed. He let her push him onto his side, deadweighting himself rudely, and she undid the tie around his wrists. She was already wrapping the fabric around her torso when he finally rolled back to see her. "Happy?" she asked shortly, tying off her 'shirt.'  
He breathed a laugh. "Yeah, I mean, damn. How are you even standing?"  
She raised an eyebrow. "I think I know how to take a dick, man."  
He rubbed his wrists and sat up, shaking his head. "How did you even get it all...?"  
She was laughing, taking his words as compliments, and smacked his face lightly. "Wake up, bodyguard. We got some shit to do today."  
"Don't you, uh," he motioned at her and shrugged, "shouldn't I return the favor or whatever?"  
She smiled as she wrapped her cuffs around her legs. "Think of it like a power thing for me. I'm fine."  
He blew air at her awkwardly. "What if I want to?"  
She rolled her eyes and turned away, searching for something. "Do what you want, but I don't need some indebted half-assed fondling."  
RJ mocked offense. "When the hell have I ever done anything half-assed?"  
She shook her ass. "You are half-ass," she paused and winked over her shoulder at him, "and the other half is cute as fuck."  
He would've fought her over it, but he was already exhausted and had only been awake for maybe half an hour. She was already packing her shit, searching for her mask. He didn't help her find it in the bar where they'd left it to spite her for calling him cute. Gnarly shoved his muzzle between RJ's legs and prodded his chest. "Our boss is weird, huh?" he asked the dog loudly enough for Vera to hear. She smiled and left the room in search of her mask and RJ fell back onto the bed, hoping to sleep a bit more before she made them leave again.  



End file.
